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Alphonso  XIII,  King  of  Spain. 


ACROSS  THE  COUNTRY 
•*OFTHE** 

LITTLE:  KINQ. 

xV 

'K 

A  TRIPTHROUGH    SPAIN. 


BY 
WILLIAM  BEMENT  LENT. 

AUTHOR  Of 

BEYOND  THE  SEA. 


BONNELL,  SILVER, &COMPANY. 

NEW  YORK- 
1897. 


COPTRIOHT,  1807, 

nv 
BONNELL,  SILVER  &  CO. 


TO 

THE     DEAR     MEMORY 
OF    MY    GENTLE 

MOTHER  : 

SOMETIME   A  SOJOURXER 

IX  THE 

LAND  OF  THE    GREAT  KINO, 

WHICH     IS     A     BETTER     COUNTRY, 

EVEN    A    HEAVENLY. 


2136867 


PEEFACE. 


THE  number  of  tourists  availing  themselves  of 
the  Southern  or  Mediterranean  route  is  annually 
increasing.  Many,  taking  advantage  of  the  "  stop- 
over" privilege,  land  at  Gibraltar  and  have  a 
hurried  but  fairly  satisfactory  glimpse  of  Tan- 
gier, Seville  and  Granada,  while  a  goodly  number 
leave  the  steamer  at  that  port  and  pass  by  the 
route  herein  portrayed  to  the  northern  frontier, — 
a  journey  of  surpassing  interest.  The  student  or 
specialist  may  -find  the  available  literature  on  the 
subject  satisfactory,  but,  to  the  ordinary  traveller, 
Ford,  Murray  and  O'Shea  are  cumbersome,  heavy 
and  profuse.  While  not  offered  as  a  Guide-book, 
it  is  felt  this  modest  volume  will  prove  a  pleasant 
and  useful  companion  along  the  way,  touching  upon 
all  the  sights  the  bird  of  passage  will  care  to  see. 

W.  B.  L. 


CONTENTS. 


PASS 

Introductory  :  Dei  Gratia  Alphonso  XIII 1 

The  Gate  by  which  we  Entered — Gibraltar  No.  1. . .  10 

The  Gate  by  which  we  Entered — Gibraltar  No.  2. . .  18 

An  Outlying  Post— Tangier 26 

Our  First  Spanish  Town — Ronda 40 

A  Moorish  Legacy — The  Alhambra  No.  1 51 

A  Moorish  Legacy — The  Alhambra  No.  2 61 

A  Moorish  Legacy — The  Alhambra  No.  3 69 

Some  Granadian  Fragments — Granada 79 

The  Oven  of  Spain— Seville  No.  1 89 

The  Oven  of  Spain— Seville  No.  2 98 

Caesar  and  Pilate — Seville 106 

Here  and  There  in  Seville , 115 

Corpus  Christi  in  Seville 124 

WithMurillo  in  Seville 135 

The  Pride  of  Cordova 144 

Golden  Hours  in  Cordova  and  Aranjuez 154 

The  Crown  of  Spain— Toledo 164 

The  Largest  Village  in  Spain — Madrid 176 

The  Eighth  Wonder  of  the  World— The  Escorial. . . .  187 

A  Spanish  University  Town — Salamanca 198 

The  City  of  the  Cid— Burgos. 208 

By  Biscay's  Shore — San  Sebastian,  etc 217 

The  Birthplace  of  a  Devotee 226 

Au  Revoir.                                                                        .  234 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Alfonso  XIII,  King  of  Spain Frontispiece 

The  Queen  Regent,  The  Little  King,  The  Two  Infantas      8 

Gibraltar 24 

The  Alhambra,  Court  of  Lions     70 

Garden  of  the  Generalife,  Granada 83 

Seville,  Cathedral  and  Giralda . .  .  100 

The  Alcazar  Gardens,  Seville  121 

The  Mosque,  Cordova 146 

Cordova  Cathedral,  Court  of  Oranges 151 

Toledo  Cathedral  Choir 167 

Toledo,  Cloister  San  Juan  de  los  Reyes 171 

Burgos  Cathedral,  The  Nave     211 


ACROSS  THE  COUNTRY 

OF  THE  LITTLE  KING, 


INTRODUCTORY. 


DEI  GRATIA,  ALFONSO  XIII. 

SPAIX,  with  a  magnificent  territorial  stretch 
from  north  to  south  of  four  hundred  and  sixty 
miles,  a  regal  sweep  from  east  to  west  of  some 
five  hundred  and  sixty  more,  a  constellation  of 
provinces,  soft  and  melodious  in  nomenclature 
and  strangely  varied  in  character,  with  a  his- 
tory unusually  opulent  in  startling  episodes  and 
thrilling  reminiscences  and  a  literature  rich  in 
poetic  fancy  and  romantic  suggestion,  is  never- 
theless the  country  of  a  very  little  King,  for  a  lad 
of  scarce  eleven  summers  holds  by  inheritance 
the  traditional  purple  and  carries  the  title  of 
Alfonso  XIII.,  although  well-nigh  overwhelmed 
with  the  name  of  Alfonso  Leon  Fernando  Maria 
Jakob  Isodor  Pascual !  While  the  happiest  years, 


2  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

probably,  of  this  royal  life  are  passing,  the  Queen- 
JMother,  as  Regent,  holds,  with  rare  tact,  ability 
and  judgment,  the  silken  reins  of  government 
and  exercises  the  remnant  of  power  left,  by  suc- 
cessive revolutions  and  radical  political  changes, 
to  the  ruling  Sovereign. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  two  figures,  how- 
ever, at  present,  is  the  Queen  Regent,  of  whom  it 
is  said  that  "the  Spaniards  awoke  after  the 
death  of  the  late  King,  to  find  a  woman  in  the 
palace  they  had  really  never  known  before."  She, 
who  had  been  merely  an  ornamental  but  stain- 
less figure  in  the  brilliant  and  corrupt  court  of 
Alfonso  XII.  determined  to  hold  the  kingdom  for 
her  unborn  son,  and  rose  so  courageously  and 
ably  to  the  situation,  as  to  command  almost 
universal  admiration  and  respect.  If  current 
gossip  is  reliable,  she  is  an  attached  and  watch- 
ful Mother  and  a  devoted,  conscientious  and  hard- 
working Sovereign.  After  all,  these  older  con- 
tinental monarchical  countries  are  not  ripe  for 
self-government.  They  do  better  for  a  genera- 
tion or  two  with  their  accustomed  governmental 
head,  handicapped  by  the  will  of  the  people,  crys- 
tallized in  a  constitution.  The  Republic  was  a 
failure  because  its  immature  leaders  lacked  the 
most  important  attribute  of  self-government, — 


DEI  GRATIA,  ALFONSO  XIII.  3 

"  the  power  to  subordinate  their  personal  incli- 
nations to  the  permanent  good."  Even  Castelar, 
sturdy  Republican  as  he  is,  concedes  that  the 
Spaniards  have  all  the  liberty  they  are  ready  for, 
in  the  present  form  of  government,  and  casts  in 
his  allegiance,  while  unwilling  to  accept  any  of- 
ficial position.  Said  an  Englishwoman,  while 
speaking  of  the  radical  and  sweeping  changes 
upon  the  chess-board  of  political  Europe  during 
the  last  half  century,  and  the  possibility  of  this 
spectre  or  any  transformation  entering  into  the 
proud  stronghold  of  England's  Empire,  "  Oh ! 
tee  will  always  have  a  King  or  Queen  if  only  for 
a  figurehead 7"  Surely  there  is  no  more  pathetic 
figurehead  than  the  delicate,  innocent  little  boy- 
King  of  Spain,  Alfonso  XIII.,  and  one  scarcely 
knows  whether  most  to  pity  or  congratulate. 
The  awakening,  everywhere  more  or  less  per- 
ceptible in  the  grand  old  kingdom,  will  give  birth 
to  problems,  and  life  to  conflicting  elements  that 
will  require  a  well-balanced  head  and  a  mighty 
arm.  The  future,  unless  all  the  signs  of  the 
times  are  incorrect,  means  "  business "  to  the 
little  King  and  a  life  of  unceasing  toil  and  care. 
Curiosity,  therefore,  to  see  one  who  is  likely,  if 
life  be  prolonged,  to  be  prominent  in  future  his- 
tory, is  legitimate.  True,  it  is  only  a  child  ;  but 


4  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

the  boy  is  father  of  the  man,  and  it  is  the  coming 
King  for  weal  or  woe  that  all  want  to  see.  Fort- 
unately abundant  opportunity  is  given  in  Madrid, 
where  he  may  frequently  be  seen  by  the  palace 
windows  overlooking  the  daily  mounting  of  the 
guard  or  while  driving,  almost  unattended, 
through  the  city  streets ;  while  at  San  Sebastian, 
where  the  Queen  has  a  lovely  villa  by  the  sea, 
much  of  the  rigid  court  etiquette  seems  less  con- 
spicuous, and  the  little  fellow  plays  by  the  shore 
or  disports  in  the  water  in  plain  sight,  much  as  any 
happy  child  would  do.  With  an  allowance  from 
the  government  of  one  million  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars  a  year,  the  lad  bids  fair,  when 
he  reaches  his  majority,  to  be  the  richest  sove- 
reign in  Europe.  Yet  common  as  a  by- word  is 
the  oft  repeated  assertion,  "  Spain  is  bankrupt." 
Even  to  the  passing  tourist  the  country  and 
people  seem  poor  and  paralyzed  and  fully  a  gen- 
eration behind  the  rest  of  the  continent.  But 
the  blessed  railway  has  entered  in,  and  there  is 
no  such  innovator  and  awakener  as  the  iron 
horse  and  the  metal  way.  Spain,  like  Russia, 
seems  under  a  spell ;  but  some  day  this  will  be 
broken  and  the  torpid,  dormant  life  leap  into 
progress  and  prosperity  again.  The  question  of 
what  form  of  government  it  has,  seems  of  less 


DEI  GRATIA,  ALFONSO  XIII.  5 

importance  than  the  elevation  and  emancipation 
of  the  people  through  common  education  and 
religious  freedom.  If  the  little  King  lives  the 
allotted  three  score  years  and  ten,  his  reign  will 
witness  radical  changes,  and,  let  us  hope,  un- 
bounded progress  and  development  also.  Dur- 
ing our  sojourn  in  Madrid,  we  whiled  away  very 
pleasantly  a  couple  of  hours  in  visiting  the 
Queen's  stables  and  repository  of  Itoyal  car- 
riages, etc., — a  display  and  array  quite  unlike 
and  surpassing  any  other  that  we  have  seen  save 
that  at  St.  Petersburg.  We  were  ushered  at 
once  into  a  long,  low-ceiled  room  like  a  hall  or 
corridor,  some  two  hundred  and  fifty  or  three 
hundred  feet  in  length,  with  brilliantly  polished 
floors,  and  along  the  side  walls  and  through  the 
centre  a  continuous  row  of  handsome  glass  cases, 
in  which  were  displayed  all  the  paraphernalia 
and  trappings  of  State  ceremonials,  social  func- 
tions, the  chase  and  the  national  bull-fights. 
Gorgeous  sets  of  red  and  black  and  russet  gold- 
mounted  harness,  —  magnificently  ornamented 
saddles, — all  the  rich  costumes  of  jockeys  and 
liveries  for  coachmen,  footmen  and  outriders, — 
most  elaborately  trimmed  outfits  in  yellow,  blue, 
green  and  red  gold-laced  satins  for  the  Royal 
bull-fights, — profusely  embroidered  suits  and 


6  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

trappings  for  matadors  and  picadors,  and  all  the 
sumptuous,  showy  and  elaborate  appointments 
for  horses  and  carriages  upon  State  occasions, 
succeeded  one  another  in  processional  brilliancy 
and  effect.  Some  cases  were  filled  with  pyramids 
of  richest  ostrich  plumes  in  all  colors,  in  colossal 
aigrettes  used  upon  the  horses'  heads  upon  all 
State  ceremonials.  A  replica  of  "  Crazy  Jane's  " 
harness  in  lustreless  black,  most  elaborately  and 
beautifully  pressed  into  ornamental  designs,  was 
the  only  sombre  item  in  the  glittering  mass. 
We  passed  into  a  cloister  and  down  to  stable 
after  stable  in  which,  stalled  upon  either  side  of 
a  central  aisle,  were  carriage  and  saddle  horses 
and  a  number  of  the  prettiest  little  ponies.  It 
was  unsatisfactory,  for  out  of  the  two  to  three 
hundred  horses,  not  more  than  a  half  dozen  were 
unblanketed.  Fortunately  two  of  the  celebrated 
Aranjuez  breed  were  being  led  out  for  exercise, 
and  we  had  a  fine  view  of  the  graceful  cream- 
colored  beauties.  But  the  famous  mules — the 
Royal  steeds  of  black  and  cream  colors — were  not 
shown.  Somehow,  one  could  not  help,  in  thought, 
comparing  this  sumptuous  provision  for  the 
King's  pets  with  the  wretched  housing  of 
thousands  of  his  faithful  subjects,  or  wonder  at 
the  destructive  fury  of  the  mob,  when  revolution 


DEI  GRATIA,  ALFONSO  XIII.  7 

sets  it  free.  Then  we  passed  into  an  immense, 
barn-like  structure  in  which,  in  a  row  all  around, 
were  a  great  variety  of  vehicles, — old-fashioned 
travelling  coaches  with  trunks  or  boxes  fitted 
and  strapped  to  the  top,  tall  drags,  children's 
gigs  and  carriages,  landaus,  coupes  and  victorias 
by  the  dozen.  In  an  adjoining  building,  equally 
barn-like,  were  the  State  coaches,  some  thirteen 
in  all,  gorgeous  and  showy  with  glitter  of  gild- 
ing, gleam  of  tortoise-shell,  flash  of  ormolu  and 
rich  coloring  of  paintings.  The  body  of  one  was 
of  polished  mahogany  with  ormolu  decorations ; 
another  was  of  tortoise-shell ;  another,  pre- 
sented by  Napoleon  I.,  was  a  dazzling  mass  of 
exquisite  ormolu.  The  most  tasteful  was  that 
in  which  Alfonso  II.,  the  father  of  the  little  King, 
drove  to  his  marriage  service,  with  an  elegant 
hammer-cloth,  embroidered  linings  and  side  lamps 
surmounted  by  jewelled  crowns.  The  spectre  at 
the  feast  was  that  in  which  Queen  Joanna,  or 
"Crazy  Jane,"  carried  around  the  body  of  her 
husband  wherever  she  went  for  forty-seven  years, 
— a  huge  coach  finished  in  dull  jet  and  sombre 
cloth, — as  repulsive  as  a  hearse.  Noticing  in  the 
large  building  some  confusion  and  moving  to  and 
fro,  which  betokened  preparations  for  something, 
we  inquired  the  reason  and  were  told  "  His  Ma- 


8  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

jesty,  the  King,  would  drive  out  in  a  half  hour." 
We  hurried  over  to  the  entrance  of  the  Palace, 
for  was  not  the  little  King  one  of  the  sights  we 
had  come  so  far  to  see? — and  did  it  not  become 
good  plain  Republicans,  with  a  supposed  contempt 
for  that  divinity  which  is  commonly  supposed 
to  hedge  about  a  King,  to  be  first  and  foremost 
in  the  curious  and  waiting  crowd  ?  For  fifteen 
minutes  we  stood  in  the  shadow  of  the  immense 
palace  fayade — facing  a  tall  arched  passage 
through  the  building  to  the  great  interior  court, 
— the  carriage  standing  in  plain  sight.  Presently 
four  uniformed,  mounted  guards  came  jauntily 
out  and  took  positions  upon  one  side,  where  they 
stood  like  statues.  Following,  a  moment  later,  was 
a  plain,  handsome,  open  landau — drawn  by  four 
sleek  black  mules,  as  glossy  and  shiny  as  satin, 
— "  the  King's  own."  Within  sat  a  lady,  so 
simply  and  quietly  attired  in  a  figured  lawn  or 
organdie  and  an  ordinary  "  sun  hat,"  that,  at 
first  glance,  we  thought  her  a  governess  or  at- 
tendant. But  the  hundreds  of  photographs  in 
the  shop  windows  make  one  so  familiar  with  her 
face  that  in  a  moment  we  saw  it  was  the  Queen 
Regent.  Another  day  we  saw  her  returning 
from  some  public  ceremonial,  richly  and  appro- 
priately dressed,  "every  inch  a  queen."  With 


The  Queen  Regent, 

The  Little  King, 

The  Two  Infantas. 


DEI  ftRATIA,  ALFONSO  XIII.  9 

her  were  two  little  girls  also  very  simply  dressed, 
and  a  delicate,  fair-haired  boy,  with  a  wide- 
brimmed  leghorn  straw  hat,  which  he  vainly 
tried  to  lift  repeatedly  from  his  head  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  salute  of  the  onlookers.  Small, 
frail  and  colorless,  the  posthumous  son  of  a  dis- 
solute sire,  we  wondered  if  this  little  head,  with 
the  waving  hair,  would  ever  be  made  uneasy  by 
the  traditional  wearing  of  the  crown!  In  the 
decided  resemblance  to  his  august  Mother  lies 
the  hope  that  in  character  and  efficiency  he  may 
reflect  her  record  rather  than  that  of  the  late 
King.  But,  in  view  of  the  disturbed  state,  the 
poverty,  the  undeveloped  condition  of  the  whole 
country,  financially,  socially  and  politically,  the 
future  years  of  the  little  monarch  bid  fair  to  be 
so  crowded  with  conflict,  confusion  and  change, 
that  this  dear  little  fellow,  passing  so  uncon- 
sciously in  an  open  carriage  for  an  afternoon 
drive,  seemed,  for  the  time  being,  the  most  pa- 
thetic and  pitiful  figure  in  the  whole  panorama 
of  European  sights  and  interests. 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED. 

THE  admirable  steamer  service,  inaugurated 
within  the  last  few  years,  direct  from  New  York 
to  the  various  ports  of  the  Mediterranean,  has 
made  Gibraltar,  although  an  English  military 
station,  the  gate  by  which  a  great  multitude  of 
tourists  enter  the  country  of  the  little  King, 
thereby  avoiding  repetition  of  tedious  miles  of 
travel  and  rendering  a  trip  through  central  Spain 
quite  as  feasible  as  any  ordinary  European  route. 
Our  approach  to  it,  upon  a  lovely  glowing  May 
morning,  from  earliest  waking  until  our  feet  at 
last  pressed  upon  the  English  soil,  was  spectacu- 
lar and  dramatic  in  the  extreme,  being  full  of  ex- 
citing interest  and  varied  beauty  of  earth  and  sea 
and  sky.  It  seemed  like  a  grand  moving  pano- 
rama in  which  there  was  absolutely  nothing  to 
mar  or  regret.  We  awoke  in  Trafalgar  Bay,  whose 
shimmering  waters  were  so  calm,  sunny  and  serene 
that  the  story  of  the  naval  engagement  of  Octo- 
ber 21,  1805,  sounded  like  a  myth.  We  had 

fairly  entered,  when  we  reached  the  deck,  "  the 
10 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.        H 

gate  of  the  narrow  passage,"  as  the  Arabs  call 
the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  some  thirty-five  or  forty 
miles  in  length  and  twelve  miles  in  width  at 
the  narrowest  point, —  at  Tarifa, —  where  the 
learned  men  contend  that,  at  some  remote  period, 
the  two  continents  were  joined.  We  stood  en- 
tranced with  the  gradually  unfolding  picture. 
Away  off  in  a  little  nook,  a  dazzling  mass  of  pearly 
white  was  pointed  out  as  Tangier ;  some  flash- 
ing walls  and  battlements  told  of  Tarifa ;  upon 
one  side  the  low  lying,  verdant,  undulating  coast 
of  Spain,  and  upon  the  other  the  waving,  tossing 
range  of  mysterious  African  mountains,  with  soft 
opalescent  tints  and  exquisite  shadows  slumber- 
ing in  eve"ry  indentation.  While  watching,  as  for 
a  coming  morning,  for  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
mighty  leonine  rock  of  Gibraltar,  one  by  my  side 
joyfully  said,  "  I  see  it !  I  see  the  Lion  ! "  A 
plain  woman,  a  stranger,  near  by,  looking  intently 
at  the  nearer  shore,  exclaimed,  "  Oh !  where  ? 
where  is  there  a  lion  ?  I  do  not  see  one ! "  In 
speechless  wonder  we  saw  the  rest  of  the  golden 
way  against  a  glowing  eastern  sky  all  enveloped 
in  glorious  light, — nature's  majestic,  royal  couch- 
ant  Lion,  its  rocky  sides  touched  with  vegetation 
and  gilded  with  patches  of  yellow  gorse — lifting 
its  head  some  fourteen  hundred  and  thirty  feet 


12  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

above  the  waves.  The  effect  is  most  peculiar,  for 
the  great  mass  rises  direct  from  the  sea,  and  the 
environing  land  is  so  flat  that,  as  some  one  has 
said,  it  looks  like  "  a  fragment  of  some  shattered 
world  dropped  here  by  chance."  It  certainly 
does  not  appear  as  if  it  belonged  there,  and  looks 
the  apple  of  discord  it  has  ever  been.  At  seven 
o'clock  we  were  within  the  bay,  the  anchor  was 
dropped,  and  our  voyage  was  ended !  Those  who 
were  going  on  to  Xaples  hurried  ashore  for  a  two 
hours'  drive  and  inspection.  But  the  blessed  time 
had  come  when  there  was  no  need  for  us  to  hurry, 
when  nothing  was  hounding  us  remorselessly 
along,  and  we  could  sit  and  leisurely  enjoy  the 
unique  scene.  Directly  before  us  stood,  with 
grim,  defiant,  self-conscious  air,  yet  harmless 
look,  the  stately  rock,  with,  far  away  upon  its 
precipitous  and  steep  sloping  sides,  lifted  up 
above  the  shore,  tiny  structures  like  white  dots 
upon  its  face  —  with  great  yellow  patches  of 
flowering  gorse,  the  red  flag  of  England  dominat- 
ing all,  and  at  the  base,  quite  Italian-like  in  ap- 
pearance, a  town  of  great  barracks  and  habita- 
tions, with  dashes  of  color  here  and  there,  of 
riotous  tropical-like  growth  of  tree  and  flower. 
We  could  have  remained  there  for  hours,  so  fas- 
cinating and  tumultuous  were  the  impressions, 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.   13 

thoughts  and  emotions  that  crowded  upon  our 
minds.  A  multitude  of  lifelong  day-dreams 
knocked  to  say  good-bye,  for  reality  had  crowded 
them  out  and  dissipated  their  soft  glamour ;  like 
a  confused  harmony  and  psalm,  the  scriptural 
phrases  of  "The  Rock"  as  a  precious  symbol  and 
figure  sounded  in  our  ears;  and  all  the  while, 
tossed  high  in  air  like  a  great  tidal  wave  with  its 
summit  ridge  almost  as  thin  as  crest  of  mountain 
billow,  rose  the  majestic  mass.  We  wondered  if 
we  had  not  known  it  was  pierced,  and  seamed,  and 
tunnelled  with  all  that  modern  military  ingenuity 
and  knowledge  could  suggest,  and  bristled  along 
its  whole  length  of  three  miles  with  some  two 
thousand  or  more  cannon,  whether  it  would  have 
seemed  as  defiant  and  challenging  in  expression. 
Yet  a  leonine  contour,  even  in  a  placid  landscape, 
always  breathes  of  force  and  impresses  with 
strength.  We  went  ashore  in  a  steam  tender,  and, 
as  we  stepped  upon  the  wharf,  were  suddenly  con- 
scious that  we  had  entered  upon  a  fresh  and  novel 
existence.  A  swarm  of  dusky,  swarthy  athletes, 
workingmen  and  idlers,  with  here  and  there  a 
Moor  or  Barbary  Jew  in  picturesque  drapings 
and  colors,  surrounded  us.  Demure  and  patient 
donkeys  with  huge  panniers  upon  either  side, 
loaded  high  with  cutting  of  fresh  grass  so  full  of 


14  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

crimson  vetch  blossoms  as  to  be  most  artistic  and 
tasteful,  women  in  queer  wrappings  and  fold- 
ings, and  a  half  dozen  little  two-seat  phaetons  with 
white  curtains  and  the  unmistakable  English 
girl  waiting  at  the  market,  added  to  the  tone, 
color  and  character  of  the  scene.  We  entered  the 
arched  gates  of  the  city,  and,much  amused,  walked 
along  the  principal  street  —  "  Waterport " — to 
the  Hotel  Royal.  Such  a  grotesque  mixture  of 
signs  and  people!  A  huge  poster,  near  which 
was  a  gorgeously  attired  Moor,  affirmed  unblush- 
ingly  "Alcock's  Porous  Plaisters, — the  best." 
As  I  was  in  the  embrace  of  two,  I  felt  like  con- 
firming it  for  the  possible  benefit  of  the  Scythian 
and  Greek,  bond  and  free,  crowd  around  us! 
An  hour  later,  in  one  of  the  amusing  little 
vehicles,  we  were  off  for  a  drive,  calling  first 
upon  our  Consul  for  an  official  request  for  a  pass 
to  visit  the  rock  galleries  and  batteries,  which 
we  were  then  obliged  to  present  at  the  Governor- 
General's  residence  for  confirmation — formerly 
an  ancient  convent,  enclosing  two  courts,  one 
of  which  was  laid  out  with  profusely  crowded 
flower-beds  and  tropical  plants.  To  one  side 
stretched  out  a  lovely  garden  with  luxuriant 
growth  of  palms,  callas,  tuberoses,  pomegranates, 
hibiscus,  tree  heliotropes  (six  feet  in  height), 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.        15 

larkspurs,  marigolds,  wallflowers,  hollyhocks, 
marguerites,  gorgeous  pelargoniums,  and  gera- 
niums, blood-red  poppies,  flowering  pepper  trees 
and  fruit-laden  orange  trees,  all  in  full  blossom. 
The  garden  is  an  English  addition.  Oh  !  this 
flower-loving  English  people!  how  they  make 
even  the  desert  glad  with  wild  riot  of  floral 
bloom  and  color!  The  air  was  heavy  with  the 
mingled  perfume  and  the  repose  and  quiet,  like 
unto  a  rest  that  remaineth.  Later,  armed  with 
•the  official  permit,  we  drove  by  zigzag  roads,  pass- 
ing comical  little  streets  of  steps,  and  many  win- 
dows and  terraces  just  overflowing  with  flowers, 
to  high  upon  the  mountain  side,  to  visit  the  gal- 
leries shown  to  ordinary  visitors.  While  waiting 
upon  an  open  plateau  for  a  guide,  we  looked, 
through  the  great  straggling  branches  of  syca- 
more trees,  in  gardens  below — way  down  upon 
quiet  blue  waters  with  idle  ships — fishing-boats 
and  winged  lateen  sails,  upon  a  lovely  painted 
ocean  and  on  to  snatches  of  the  green  Spanish 
hills.  The  ancient  sycamores  were  most  quaint 
and  picturesque — with  so  many  long,  spread-out 
branches  that  seemed  to  invite  one  to  be  seated, 
that  we  readily  understood  why  "Zaccheus  he 
did  climb  a  tree "  to  see  the  Master  pass.  A 
more  delightful  tiny  Meissonier  could  not  be  im- 


16  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

agined  than  the  sight  through  these  branches 
upon  the  little  shadow-flecked,  flower-filled, 
stone-wall-enclosed  gardens  beneath.  It  was 
Italian  in  its  sunniness,  its  warmth,  color  and 
poetic  sentiment.  The  guard  came  and  we 
walked  down  a  roadway,  beneath  an  arched  gate- 
way and  through  a  short  tunnel,  emerging  finally 
into  a  narrow  lane  hollowed  from  the  mountain 
side,  with  path  continually  ascending.  Over  us 
was  the  glorious  blue ;  upon  either  side  the  walks  ; 
nodding  at  us  from  above  countless  wild  flowers,' 
stately  acanthus  and  floral  bells.  We  entered 
the  "  galleries,"  which  are  smoothly  cut  tunnels, 
perhaps  ten  feet  wide  with  a  height  of  twelve  or 
more.  At  intervals,  open  portholes  give  light 
and  also  afford  some  exquisite  miniature  pictures 
of  the  world  below,  which  seems  so  far  away. 
These  rock  galleries  were  begun  during  the  great 
siege  over  one  hundred  years  ago.  They  turn 
and  constantly  ascend.  We  climbed  up  and  up 
by  a  smooth  roadway,  stepping  outside  frequently 
to  look  at  the  wonderful,  sunlit  view.  The  guide 
said  we  ascended  only  about  four  hundred  and 
sixty  feet,  and  then  the  "  thus  far  and  no  farther  " 
was  sounded.  He  assured  us  they  were  all  alike 
and  could  we  go  farther  we  would  see  no  more, 
save  that  "in  the  open  upon  the  summit  the 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.        17 

view  was  very  fine."  From  the  lust  and  highest 
portholes  we  looked  down  upon  three  cemeteries 
for  the  whole  garrison,  all  grouped  together, 
although  separated  by  low  stone  walls  and  iron 
rails.  In  a  small  enclosure  laid  the  uniform,  coffin- 
shaped  graves  of  the  Jews,  apparently  all  alike. 
Next  the  multitudinous  crosses  of  the  Romanists, 
and  then  the  large,  orderly,  flower-bordered  en- 
closure in  which  many  an  English  heart  was 
sleeping.  From  the  last  we  looked  from  crest 
to  base  of  the  almost  perpendicular  face  of  the 
loftiest  portion  of  the  Rock,  but  it  made  one's 
head  reel.  Once  a  year,  we  were  told,  upon  the 
Queen's  birthday,  the  highest  gun  is  fired,  those 
of  the  galleries  follow,  and  the  batteries  all  along 
the  shore  prolong  the  roar.  Let  us  hope  no  more 
serious,  simultaneous  discharge  than  this  will 
ever  be  demanded  from  this,  the  greatest  and 
strongest  fortress  in  the  world.  Then  we  walked 
gayly  down,  and  drove  through  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  the  weird  tunnelled  way  and  out  into 
the  sun-bathed,  flower-garlanded  lane,  to  the  old 
Moorish  castle,  now  a  prison,  which  has  defied 
the  changes  of  twelve  centuries ; — and  all,  all,  with 
the  one  I  love  best ! 
2 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED. 

(Concluded.) 

THE  town  of  twenty  thousand  inhabitants, — 
the  Alameda  or  public  gardens,  Esplanade,  bat- 
teries, drives,  and  in  fact  everything  which  con- 
stitutes Gibraltar  as  a  settlement,  lie  upon  the 
slope  at  the  base  of  the  western  face  of  the  Rock, 
for  the  simple  reason  that  the  eastern  side,  rising 
abruptly  from  the  level  plain  known  as  the  neu- 
tral ground,  is  perpendicular,  the  south  rugged 
and  almost  so,  and  the  north  too  precipitous  for 
any  such  lodgment.  The  drive  to  Europa  Point, 
the  extreme  southern  end  of  this  huge  monolith, 
ridden  and  torn  for  purposes  of  warfare  and 
strife,  yet  peaceful  in  its  billowy  outlines,  its 
gilding  of  yellow  gorse,  and  its  jungle  of  tropical 
and  gorgeous  floral  growth,  was  like  a  prolonged 
fete  or  "  battle  of  flowers,"  for  it  was  a  way  whose 
salient  characteristics  changed  so  rapidly,  whose 
detail  was  so  rich  and  varied,  whose  natural  and 
artificial  attractions  were  so  numberless  and 

beautiful,  that  the  memory  of  it  is  a  jumble  of 
18 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.        19 

colors,  effects  and  exquisite  picturings.  At  times 
along  an  ascending  roadway,  with  tree  branches 
forming  an  arch  overhead,  and  through  the  shadow- 
flecked  vista  perchance  a  red-coated  figure  or  two, 
or  a  heavily  and  picturesquely  loaded  donkey 
plodding  its  way,  or  some  vehicle  with  white  cur- 
tains or  natty  English  drag  or  tasteful  victoria. 
Again,  upon  one  side  may  be  high  walls  or  villa 
terrace,  and,  coquettishly  bending  over  and  nod- 
ding at  the  passer-by,  an  enormous  mass  of  scarlet 
or  great  balloon  of  pink  ivy  geraniums  or  lovely 
saffron,  white  or  pink  roses,  while,  upon  the  oppo- 
site side,  you  may  look  over  the  low  wall  and  in 
a  ravine-like  depth  see  cool  sago  palms  and  yews 
and  flowers  and  flowers  beyond  counting.  It 
carries  one  through  the  lovely  Alameda  or  Public 
Gardens — once  a  burning  desert — called  the  "  red 
sands,"  but  converted,  as  far  back  as  1814,  into 
a  garden  and  improved  from  time  to  time,  until 
now  it  blossoms  like  the  rose.  This  large  tract 
upon  the  hill-slope  is  laid  out  with  drives  in 
every  direction  and  the  whole  enclosure  made  to 
seem  more  extensive  than  it  really  is  by  the 
covering  of  the  entire  surface  with  a  thicket  or 
jungle  of  beautiful  shrubs,  aloes  and  huge  mounds 
of  geraniums  and  roses.  At  the  entrance  is  the 
Esplanade  or  Parade  ;  a  large,  level,  open  plaza, 


20  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  along  the  sea-front  of  this  stretches  a  long  nar- 
row tract,  charmingly  enclosed,  through  which 
walks  are  carried  as  between  continuous  flower- 
banks,  with  flowers,  flowers  of  every  variety  and 
every  tint,  everywhere,  save  upon  the  paths,  leav- 
ing scarce  a  square  inch  uncovered.  The  road 
passes  through  also  the  old  Southport  gate — a 
huge  structure  of  stone  with  two  arched  passage- 
ways, with  the  arms  of  England  over  one,  and 
some  old  Moorish  and  Spanish  crests  over  the  other. 
The  approaching  road  is  much  elevated,  so  that 
at  one  side  one  looks  down  exquisite  green  depths 
with  lovely  palms  and  tropical  trees,  and  upon 
the  other,  over  a  sunken  graveyard,  exquisitely 
beautiful,  being  full  of  quaint  tombs,  fairly  buried 
in  roses  and  geraniums,  with  the  high  wall  con- 
tinued from  the  gateway,  a  solid  and  unbroken 
mass  of  luxuriant  ivy  and  great  swaying  branches 
of  blossoming  roses.  The  wild  flowers,  of  which 
there  is  an  immense  variety,  not  to  be  outdone, 
crown  every  hummock,  toss  to  and  fro  upon 
every  wall  and  crowd  upon  the  very  drives  much 
as  the  gamins  push  to  the  front  and  occupy  every 
coign  of  vantage  whenever  there  is  a  circus  or 
military  parade.  Private  houses  were  actually 
concealed  by  riotous  growth  of  the  branching  ivy 
and  an  avalanche  of  brilliant  blooms.  Count- 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.   21 

less  flowers  too,  from  their  positions,  seem  to 
have  sprung  up  spontaneously  and  with  the  un- 
checked fecundity  of  weeds.  Always  high  above 
us  the  topmost  ridge  with  its  crown  of  the  Signal 
Tower,  "  El  Hacho,"  or  torch,  because  there  in 
the  olden  days,  the  warning  fires  were  lighted  in 
times  of  peril;  always  about  us  queer  ravines 
and  batteries,  odd  structures  with  flowering 
plants  pendant  from  their  summits  or  sides,  and 
blossoms  innumerable  of  tropical  and  temperate 
climes ;  and  when  the  eyes  were  fairly  wearied 
and  bewildered  they  could  rest  continually  upon 
a  cobalt  stretch  of  waters,  and  beyond,  upon 
the  wind-tossed-like  mountains  of  Africa  lying 
against  the  blue  sky,  as  peacefully  and  placidly 
as  if  guarding  our  own  heavenly  Lake  George. 

It  is  a  fine,  smooth  road  all  the  way  and  amaz- 
ing in  its  variety.  At  the  Point  we  walked  be- 
yond the  line  to  which  carriages  are  allowed,  but 
the  charm  was  in  the  view.  The  day  was  abso- 
lutely perfect.  The  great  Rock  presented  an 
entirely  different  appearance.  Across  the  waters, 
the  ever-fascinating  shadowy  African  range  was 
neither  amethystine  nor  opalescent  as  before, 
but  simply  a  blaze  of  refined  color,  while  the 
more  distant  heights  were  a  heavenly,  a  soft, 
dreamy  blue.  They  fairly  waved  and  throbbed, 


22  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  something  within  us  responded  harmoniously 
to  the  lovely  rhythm.  The  solemn  eloquence 
and  suggestiveness  of  this  peerless  scene  can 
never  be  quite  forgotten.  Doubtless  the  clear 
skies  and  atmosphere  and  the  glorious  sunshine 
accentuated  its  loveliness.  Doubtless  the  finest 
view  around  Gibraltar  is  attained  from  "  El 
Ilacho,"  the  Signal  Tower,  to  which  a  zigzag  road 
leads  up  the  steep  western  face,  but  it  was  not 
accessible  during  our  sojourn.  To  stand  upon 
this  rugged  mountain  eyrie,  and  with  one  sweep- 
ing glance  to  look  from  the  snow-crested  Sierra 
Nevada  range,  and  the  glorious  nearer  hills  of 
Spain,  down  upon  the  blue  Mediterranean  and 
upon  the  Atlas  Mountains  of  Africa,  all  throbbing 
with  color  and  glowing  with  sunshine,  must  be  a 
sensation  for  a  lifetime ! 

We  drove  back,  often  by  ways  we  had  not 
seen,  and,  passing  through  the  town,  went  to  the 
opposite  extremity  of  the  Rock  and  upon  the 
level,  unattractive  "Neutral  Ground."  From 
this  the  frowning  mountain  seems  like  a  gigantic 
boulder  rising  from  the  level  almost  sheer  and 
perpendicular  to  its  greatest  altitude.  Its  ex- 
pression is  decidedly  combative,  for,  high  upon 
the  face  of  the  gaunt  gray  rocks,  are  visible  port- 
holes, tier  above  tier,  with  here  and  there  a  bat- 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.   23 

tery.  There  it  stands  looking  toward  Spain  as 
if  its  back  was  up  and  there  was  not  the  slightest 
intention  of  forgetting  it !  What  a  red  rag  is  to 
a  bull  must  be  the  bloody  flag  of  England  wav- 
ing over  it  to  every  Spaniard — a  constant  aggra- 
vation, an  imbittering  and  undying  irritation. 
For  it  is  in  every  sense  a  port  of  Spain,  yet  as  a 
common  "valet  de  place"  said,  "but  for  the 
English,  Gibraltar  would  be  a  second  Tangier  in 
its  degradation  and  barbarism." 

Every  day  just  before  sunset  a  squad  of  four  men 
passed  the  hotel  down  the  principal  street,  one 
leading,  then  three  abreast  and  one  bringing  up 
the  rear.  The  central  one  of  the  three  carried 
a  large  ring  with  the  cumbrous  keys  of  the  city 
gates.  They  stood  facing  the  gateway  a  few  mo- 
ments in  military  precision, — a  gun  somewhere 
in  the  fortifications  was  fired,  and  then  the  inner 
arid  outer  gates  were  closed  and  locked  for  the 
night, — a  foot-passage  to  one  side  being  left  open 
a  while  longer.  And  this  mediaeval-looking  cere- 
mony is  observed  every  day  in  the  year !  Said  a 
friend,  when  some  months  ago  we  were  planning 
our  itinerary,  "  Gibraltar  is  a  good  place  to  get 
away  from.  A  day  is  more  than  you  will  care  to 
spend  there."  But  given  such  brilliant,  exhilar- 
ating weather  and  such  picturesque  and  floral 


24  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

conditions  as  characterized  our  visit,  weeks  could 
have  been  delightfully  passed  there.  The  place 
is  so  unique.  There  is  but  owe  Gibraltar!  The 
exigencies  of  modern  warfare  will  never  demand 
another.  It  is  even  said,  because  of  improve- 
ments, inventions  and  changes  in  military  move- 
ments, the  place  is  not  as  impregnable  as  reputed. 
Its  history  sounds  like  romance !  Think  of  this 
great  Rock  being  for  eight  hundred  years  the 
bone,  for  the  possession  of  which  Moor  and  Span- 
iard continually  fought !  When  "  the  one-eyed 
Berber  " — the  first  invading  Moor — conquered 
and  took  possession  of  this  mighty  Rock,  so  un- 
like the  adjacent  coast  of  Spain  in  character,  he 
bestowed  upon  it  his  own  name  "  Gebel  Tarik," 
mountain  of  Tarik.  Evolution  is  a  mysterious 
process  at  best.  As  scientists  and  theologians 
are  lost  in  attempts  to  follow  it  in  their  respective 
lines,  it  is  scarcely  worth  while  for  us  to  even 
wonder  how  this  degenerated  or  developed  into 
the  modern  cognomen  "  Gibraltar,"  the  synonym 
of  defiant  power  and  impregnable  strength.  The 
Moors  and  Spaniards  played  battledore  and  shut- 
tlecock with  it,  until,  in  1704,  the  English  took  it, 
ostensibly  for  the  claimant  to  the  throne  it  sup- 
ported, but,  true  to  her  instinct,  she  managed  to 
keep  it  for  herself.  Yet  as  one  reads  the  story 


Gibraltar. 


THE  GATE  BY  WHICH  WE  ENTERED.        25 

of  the  great  four-year  siege  and  defence,  one  feels 
she  fairly  earned  it  by  her  heroism,  pluck  and 
endurance.  But  it  is  an  expensive  possession ;  for 
it  is  said,  one  billion,  two  hundred  and  fifty  mil- 
lion dollars  have  already  been  expended  upon  it, 
and  it  costs  five  million  of  dollars  annually  to 
support.  It  adds  also  not  a  little  to  its  interest 
to  read  that,  way  back  when  the  Phoenicians 
regarded  this  the  end  of  the  navigable  world, 
somewhere  here  was  established  "Calpe,"  one  of 
the  pillars  of  Hercules,  while  upon  the  opposite 
African  heights  several  hundred  feet  higher,  was 
that  of  "  Abyla,"  the  Mount  of  God,  in  their  ver- 
nacular, but  called  by  the  English  "  Apes  Hill." 
***** 

A  lovely  Sabbath  afternoon  we  sat  in  the  flower- 
crowded  garden  bordering  the  Esplanade.  On 
the  opposite  side  of  the  thicket  some  thirteen 
scarlet-coated  soldiers  and  several  ladies  were 
singing  a  hymn  preparatory  to  an  open  service. 
The  voices  were  sweet  and  harmonious,  the  effect 
pleasing.  In  a  place  where  every  characteristic, 
every  prominent  feature  was  suggestive  of  kingly 
power  and  royal  sway,  it  seemed  peculiarly  ap- 
propriate to  sound  out  upon  the  air  as  they  did, 
again  and  again, 

"  To  Him  all  majesty  ascribe 
And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all." 


AN  OUTLYING  POST. 

"  THE  CITY  PROTECTED  BY  THE  LOUD." 

ALTHOUGH  in  no  sense  a  portion  of  the  country 
of  the  little  King,  Tangier,  in  Morocco,  is  so  con- 
venient of  access,  and  withal  so  novel,  oriental 
and  interesting,  that  almost  every  one  who  "bides 
a  wee"  at  Gibraltar  makes  an  excursion  to  it  as 
part  and  parcel  of  the  regular  Spanish  campaign. 
As  the  way  to  it  is  by  the  sea — never  a  royal  road 
— individual  experience  and  narrative  may  be 
directly  contradictory  and  yet  be  conscientiously 
correct.  For  some  will  lugubriously  tell  of 
wretched  steamer,  "  scarcely  better  than  a  cattle 
boat,"  and  of  "  a  horde  of  Barbary  Jews,"  of  tem- 
pestuous waves,  cloud-capped  or  concealed  moun- 
tain range,  and  a  final  landing  from  small  boats 
upon  the  backs  or  in  the  embrace  of  swarthy, 
greasy  Moors,  while  others  will  talk  gayly  of  "  good 
ship  so  and  so,"  of  sunny  seas,  of  mysterious  opal- 
escent African  heights  and  of  an  exquisite  picture 

of  clusters  of  pearls  with  setting    of  green,  of 
26 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  27 

emerald  and  blue  of  sapphire  which  "  the  city  pro- 
tected by  the  Lord  "  seems,  as  approached.  Both 
in  going  and  returning  we  were  fortunate  in 
happening  upon  the  largest  steamers,  having 
also  smooth  sunlit  waters,  a  lovely  panorama  of 
the  African  mountains  and  the  low  lying  Spanish 
shores,  once  in  clearest  atmosphere,  again  in  soft 
delicious  haze,  and  the  blessed  privilege  of  step- 
ping from  the  cumbrous  hulks  which  met  us  at  the 
anchorage,  a  full  half  mile  from  the  shore,  directly 
upon  the  rude  elevated  footpath  which  juts  out 
upon  the  sands  like  a  miniature  bridge, — having, 
too,  the  warm  sunshine  throughout  the  day  and 
the  white  moonlight  at  night  and  the  clearest 
and  tenderest  blue  of  sky  unto  the  end !  What 
wonder,  then,  that  it  is  a  sunny  memory,  oriental 
and  romantic  in  its  suggestion  and  coloring? 
The  morning  we  left  Gibraltar  the  atmosphere 
was  deliciously  hazy,  quite  unlike  the  day  when 
first  we  beheld  the  mighty  Rock  with  every  out- 
line and  every  detail  as  clear  cut  as  a  cameo. 
The  low  hill  shore  of  the  straits,  and  undulating 
stretch  of  loveliest,  tenderest  green,  and  the 
African  mountains  trembled,  dreamy  and  opal- 
escent as  a  continuous  bank  of  mother  of  pearl. 
Even  the  Lion  lost  some  of  its  grimness  and 
looked  sleepy  and  dull.  Along  the  shining  waters 


28  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

we  passed  as  by  a  path  of  gold.  Little  appear- 
ance of  occupancy  had  the  green  rolling  hills, 
save,  at  long  intervals,  the  humble  habitation,  and 
everywhere  the  confines  of  the  fields  marked  by 
hedgerows  of  huge  aloes. 

Ancient  interesting  stone  watch-towers  are 
still  standing  at  short  distances — a  reminiscence 
of  a  race  and  regime  of  a  far  away  past.  Yellow 
gorse  alone  broke  the  stretch  of  living  green. 
Until  some  two  hours  later,  when  we  came 
abreast  Tarifa,  we  saw  not  a  hamlet  or  village. 
In  that  soft  dreamy  atmosphere  the  little  town, 
apparently  walled  towards  the  sea,  with  its  irreg- 
ular outlines,  its  flat-roofed  houses  and  the  Point 
beyond  with  its  lighthouse,  was  simply  enchant- 
ing, and  all, — because  the  sun  shone !  The  first 
Berber  sheik  who  landed  in  Spain  bestowed 
upon  it  his  name — Tarif.  Just  here  it  is  quite 
the  thing  to  note,  with  all  the  unconscious  "  chic  " 
of  an  original  discovery,  that  here  in  "  ye  olden 
time "  the  Barbary  pirates  and  officials  kept 
watch  of  the  passing  vessels,  compelling  each  to 
pay  tribute,  and  from  this  name  and  fact  comes 
our  modern  word  "  tariff."  All  writers  do  it, — 
hundreds  of  diaries  note  it,  and  a  myriad  of  home 
letters  scatter  the  fact  far  and  wide.  Here  the 
steamer's  course  was  changed  and  we  crossed 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  29 

directly  the  bay  of  Tangier.  Ere  long  a  white 
spot,  indistinct  because  of  the  haze,  was  discerni- 
ble, and  at  four  o'clock  the  ship  cast  anchor  a 
half  or  three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  shore 
and  "  Tandja,  the  city  protected  of  the  Lord," 
laid  before  us  in  an  amphitheatre  formed  by  the 
slopes  of  two  hills,  white,  dazzling  and  picturesque 
against  a  blue  sky.  Only  those  who  saw  the 
"  White  City"  of  1894  can  imagine  the  peculiar 
effect  of  this  grouping  of  glittering  whiteness, 
relieved  only  by  the  distant  green  of  foliage  and 
the  profound  blue  of  the  sky.  Citadel  and  town 
make  a  confusion  of  white  cubes  standing  loosely 
and  at  every  angle  with  here  and  there  a  tower 
or  a  stately  palm.  Out  came  a  swarm  of  boats 
with  picturesque  Moorish  or  Barbary  oarsmen. 
Such  a  rabble !  Such  a  chatter !  The  queer-robed 
figures  from  first  to  last  afforded  endless  amuse- 
ment and  brought  us  quickly  over  the  dancing 
waves  to  the  frail  elevated  foot  pier — and  we 
were  "  in  darkest  Africa."  A  moment  later  we 
entered  a  portico  or  arcade,  where  we  saw  at 
once  four  handsomely  attired  Moors  cross-legged, 
literally  "  sitting  in  the  receipt  of  custom,"  solemn 
in  their  dignity  and  impressive  in  their  stolidity. 
Unfortunately  in  our  hands  was  an  innocent  box. 
It  must  be  opened,  and  then  one  of  the  great 


30  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

swarthy  fellows  looked  from  his  seat  and,  with- 
out gleam  of  intelligence  or  change  of  counte- 
nance, waved  us  peremptorily  to  pass  on.  Up  a 
narrow  filthy  lane  or  street  with  pavement,  com- 
pared with  which  a  good  honest  cobble-stone 
pavement  would  be  smooth,  we  tugged  to  Hotel 
Continental — well  located  and  with  views  from 
windows  and  balconies  over  the  bay  and  beach 
and  the  dreamy  distant  hills — quite  like  unto 
Xaples. 

After  lunch  we  mounted  sorry  and  melancholy 
looking  mules,  and  attended  by  a  figure  so  brown 
of  skin  and  so  voluminously  draped  in  dark 
coarse  burnous  that  he  could  well  have  posed 
for  an  "  Ishmaelite  in  bronze,"  we  began  an 
experience  so  unique,  strange  and  varied  that 
the  day  will  always  be  a  red-letter  day  to  us. 
Down  narrow  lanes,  along  the  principal  streets, 
through  arched  gateways,  past  mosques  and 
whimsical  little  six-by-eight  shops  and  up  hill 
and  down,  through  a  motley  crowd  of  all  shades 
of  brown  faces,  from  black  to  copper,  and  all  sorts 
of  draperies  from  dingy  white  to  duskiest  brown, 
we  passed,  emerging  finally  in  the  great  Market 
Place  and  open  space  upon  the  hillside.  The 
first  look  was  bewildering,  for  it  was  a  scene, 
novel,  weird  and  strange.  Hundreds  of  robed 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  31 

and  heavily  draped  figures,  with  here  and  there 
a  red  fez  relieving  the  dim  and  dingy  mass,  were 
moving  to  and  fro,  gesticulating,  shouting  and 
calling  their  wares.  Upon  the  ground  lay  the 
hideous  camels,  all  around  heavily  laden  tiny 
donkeys  and  uninteresting  mules, — hundreds  of 
the  drapery  enveloped  figures  showing  only 
bronzed  faces  and  legs,  while  cut  grass,  vege- 
tables, fruits,  bread  and  rude  pottery  were  spread 
out  in  apparently  inextricable  confusion.  For 
awhile  we  watched  the  antics  of  a  snake-charmer, 
with  hideous  accompaniment  of  indescribable 
noise.  The  whole  scene  fairly  dazed  and  bewil- 
dered. It  was  a  first  glimpse  of  oriental  life,  and 
with  it  came  the  thought  that  it  was  to  just  such 
a  multitude  the  Master  came  with  that  mys- 
terious love  of  His,  and  that  it  was  the  common 
people  who  heard  Him  gladly.  It  seemed  as  if 
He  might  have  stood  here  and  sounded  out  the 
glad  words,  "  If  any  man  thirst  let  him  come  unto 
Me  and  drink."  We  tarried  a  long  while  moved 
and  impressed  by  the  strange  ghost-like  scene, 
and  then,  along  a  narrow  country  road,  with 
sides  lined  with  enormous  growth  of  cactus,  aloes 
and  bamboo,  we  gradually  ascended  the  hills  be- 
yond the  city.  Frequently  an  iron  screen  or 
fence  would  reveal  a  villn,  very  Italian  in  tone, 


32  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  give  a  glimpse  of  the  flower-embowered  gar- 
dens surrounding  it.  At  one  open  gateway  we 
entered  and  dismounted,  and  lo !  we  were  in  a 
second  Eden, — "Huerta  de  Hardan  "  the  subur- 
ban villa  and  grounds  of  the  Belgian  Consul.  It 
was  a  large  enclosure  with  wide,  straight  gravel 
paths  in  centre  crossing  at  right  angles.  Roses 
in  richest  profusion  like  dwarf  shrubs,  and,  climb- 
ing the  tree  branches,  falling  over  in  showers 
of  bloom,  yellow  jasmine,  ivy  geraniums,  helio- 
tropes, marguerites  and  many  curious  tropical 
flowering  shrubs  were  loaded  with  blossoms. 
Palms  and  tropical  trees,  and  on  every  side  a  per- 
fect jungle  of  lovely  flowers,  until  it  seemed  as  if 
we  had  been  caught  up  and  allowed  for  a  little 
while  a  suggestion  of  the  Eden  man  ignomini- 
ously  lost.  Through  the  thickets  a  white  draped 
Moor  occasionally  added  to  the  novel  effect. 
Standing  at  the  entrance  of  the  villa,  the  eye 
swept  beneath  palms  and  fringe-like  trees,  over 
a  snowdrift  of  marguerite  shrubs  and  along  a 
waste  place  brilliant  with  yellow  mustard,  to  a 
bit  of  the  deep  blue  sea,  overlooked  by  a  castellated 
tower.  Mounting  the  mules  we  pulled  up  the 
hill.  The  light  was  beginning  to  slant.  It  would 
have  been  absolutely  quiet  but  for  the  oft  repeated 
"Go  on,  you  blackguard,"  of  those  who  attended 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  33 

our  mules.  To  one  side,  we  overlooked  a  beauti- 
ful rolling  hill  country  as  verdant  as  if  covered 
with  growing  grain,  and  there,  walking  slowly 
across  the  fields  were  two  solitary  draped  fig- 
ures,— suggesting  those  common  fishermen  on 
their  way  to  Enimaus.  Upon  the  hilltop  was  an 
open  plateau  above  the  city  literally  carpeted 
with  dwarf  purple  and  crimson  vetches.  The 
view  was  superb,  not  only  of  the  rear  of  the  city, 
the  mountains  beyond  the  bay,  but  the  Straits 
of  Gibraltar,  the  bay  of  Trafalgar, — where  every 
Englishman,  as  was  expected,  did  his  duty, — and 
way  out  over  the  dreamy,  hazy  blueness  of  the 
sea.  All  around  this  plateau,  behind  walls  and 
buried  in  verdure,  were  villas  of  the  wealthier 
classes.  We  paused  at  a  well.  A  young  girl 
with  a  huge  water  bottle  stood  by.  Filling  it, 
she  poised  it  gracefully  upon  her  head  and  passed 
on.  What  wonder,  in  the  hush  and  stillness,  we 
thought  of  One  sitting  by  Samaria's  well,  preach- 
ing, in  simple  every-day  imagery  and  word,  the 
little  sermon  which  to-day  has  the  freshness  of 
eternal  spring !  The  sun  had  fallen  low  and,  as 
we  turned  city-ward,  cast  long  shadows  of  us 
upon  the  descending  slope.  Patient  sheep  were 
nibbling  the  succulent  and  vetch-covered  carpet- 
ing ; — in  the  distance,  here  and  there  the  draped 
3 


34  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

figures  moved  to  and  fro,  and  over  all  was  a 
hush  deep  and  solemn,  and  yet  it  was  not  "  Holy 
Land"  but  only  the  suburbs  of  Tangier,  the 
capitol  of  Ilaabit,  the  political  diplomatic  court 
of  the  empire  of  Morocco,  with  a  population  of 
fifteen  thousand  souls.  In  returning  we  passed 
through  some  very  droll  lanes  and  streets  in 
which  many  a  picture  was  framed,  such  as  a 
Moorish  archway  with  two  or  three  mysterious 
figures  in  as  many  positions;  a  green  Saracenic 
entrance  with  a  child  in  rose-pink  with  white 
burnous  sitting  in  the  open  doorway  and  pict- 
uresque forms  all  along  the  crooked  way.  We 
were  told  there  were  few  Moors  in  Tangier,  for 
they  despise  it.  The  majority  are  Barbary  Jews. 
A  few  official  Moors  are  here  because  obliged  to 
be.  The  street  life  is  peculiar.  Tiny  little  shops 
open  to  the  thoroughfare,  piled  with  wares,  are 
on  every  side,  while  within  lolls  or  squats  the  one 
in  charge.  Many  are  at  work  embroidering, 
hammering  metal,  etc.  The  majority  of  the 
people  are  thin  and  gaunt  with  a  bloodless  look, 
yet  they  do  not  seem  lacking  in  vitality,  as 
is  shown  by  their  gait  and  speech.  The  large 
number  of  old  faces  would  indicate  that,  hard  as 
the  life  seems,  it  does  not  exhaust  rapidly.  One 
evening  we  visited  the  swell  cafe  of  the  Moors. 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  35 

A  glamour  and  romance  invest  these  places  in 
the  imagination  with  a  charm  and  glitter  rarely 
realized,  for  they  are  often  very  shabby  and 
matter-of-fact,  although  interesting.  Ascending 
a  side  staircase  with  "  rises  "  faced  with  rude 
blue  and  white  tiles,  we  entered  a  long  room  with 
ceiling  of  wood  and  through  the  centre  a  row  of 
arches,  the  columns  supporting  which  were 
faced  with  crude  colored  tiles.  A  tall  dado  of 
gay  matting  encircled  the  room.  Upon  the  walls 
were  richly  painted  and  decorated  gun  racks  and 
brackets,  coarse  plaques  and  musical  instru- 
ments and — shades  of  the  Moors  !  four  narrow 
oblong  chromos  and  an  electric  light!  Some 
twenty-five  Moors  (no  Jews  would  be  allowed  to 
enter)  were  sitting  in  picturesque  groups  upon 
the  floor  smoking  and  playing  cards.  They  were 
barefooted,  for  their  shoes  are  left  at  the  entrance 
where  a  rack  or  shelves  are  provided.  To  one 
side  in  the  centre  four  or  five  musicians  made  the 
night  hideous  with  instruments  and  vocal  recita- 
tive. At  one  side  of  the  entrance  a  little  kitchen 
furnished  place  for  endless  coffee-making.  But 
it  was  a  little  incongruous  to  serve  it  in  English 
china  breakfast  cups !  It  seemed  a  life  that  is 
impenetrable,  and  yet,  as  we  sat  there  wondering 
if  there  was  no  way  out  or  up,  the  chromos 


36  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  electric  light  seemed  as  evangels,  for  had  not 
these  features  of  modern  life  crowded  in  and  been 
adopted  by  this  ancient  and  well-nigh  effete  one  ? 
There  is  nothing  like  an  entering  wedge,  even 
if  as  commonplace  as  this,  for  the  Kingdom  is 
surely  coming!  Another  cloudless  day  we  de- 
scended to  the  seashore  and  rode  a  mile  or  two 
along  the  yellow  sands.  With  our  backs  to  the 
city  the  scene  might  have  been  along  the  Maine 
coast  or  the  Jersey  shore.  The  waves  lapped 
lazily,  the  air  was  hazy  and  the  mountain  out- 
lines dreamy  and  delicate.  But  along  the  curve 
and  across  the  golden  sands  were  strange,  myste- 
rious figures  moving  along,  and  dull  and  heavy 
camels  plodding  their  thankless  way.  A  mile 
away  we  came  to  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  Moorish 
castle.  Difficult  was  it  to  analyze  the  weird  mys- 
tery of  the  scene, — the  strange  feeling  that  a  life 
strong  and  throbbing,  as  represented  by  these 
walls  and  battlements,  has  so  completely  disap- 
peared from  the  face  of  the  earth.  But  over  it, 
the  blue  sea,  the  phantom  hills,  the  soft  lapping 
waves  and  the  lovely  color  of  water  and  of  sand 
seem  to  breathe  a  sweet  and  solemn  requiem. 
Later  we  climbed  the  higher  ridge  which  domi- 
nates in  the  rear,  that  in  the  shelter  of  which 
Tangier  stands.  There  was  little  that  was  novel 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  37 

save  some  groups  of  thatched  African  huts. 
After  some  two  or  three  miles  we  reached  a  high 
point  commanding  an  extensive  view  of  nearer 
and  distant  mountain  ranges  and  the  shimmer- 
ing sea.  Finally  we  stopped  at  the  estate  of 
the  "  Governor  of  the  Port,"  which,  unlike  others 
we  visited,  seemed  devoted  almost  entirely  to 
fruit  of  all  kinds  with  here  and  there  a  few 
flowers.  We  were  met  by  a  handsomely  dressed 
and  courteous  Moor,  who  at  once  took  the  lady  of 
the  party  to  call  upon  the  Governor's  wife.  In  a 
little  while  he  returned  and  invited  us  to  the 
terrace,  a  crude  aft'air,  well  shaded,  but  with  a 
view  of  sea  and  mountains  fascinating  and  en- 
chanting. Coming  up  a  path  we  saw  a  little 
Nubian  slave,  black  as  midnight,  perhaps  ten 
years  of  age,  dressed  in  a  rose-pink  jacket  over 
which  was  a  thin  muslin  slip,  with  enormous 
hoops  in  ears,  and  bracelets,  anklets  and  rings, 
carrying  a  salver  with  cups  and  teapot  and  a 
plate  of  bread,  in  slices  as  thick  as  your  thumb, 
with  a  layer  of  butter  an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick ! 
The  tea  was  already  sweetened  and  flavored  with 
sprigs  of  mint  and  lemon  verbena!  It  was 
romantic  but  not  perfect,  for  the  cups  were 
English  china  and  the  teapot  Sheffield  plate!  It 
was  blissful,  however,  to  sit  there  and  sip  the  tea, 


38  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and,  looking  beyond  the  Nubian  slave,  see  the  soft 
blue  of  distant  mountain  and  quiet  sea. 

Lastly,  we  visited  the  prison  in  the  town.  It 
was  inexpressibly  sad.  We  entered  a  large 
dismal  room,  with,  on  one  side,  a  barred  door  or 
window,  with  an  aperture  of  perhaps  twelve 
inches  in  diameter,  through  which  we  looked 
into  a  court  with  a  number  of  wretched  creat- 
ures. As  they  have  only  what  their  friends 
bring  to  them  we  thought  to  distribute  a  handful 
of  Arabic  coins.  It  was  horrible,  for  all  we  could 
see  was  a  wild,  wriggling,  scuffling  mass  of  out- 
stretched hands  and  occasionally  a  bit  of  a  face, 
with  a  noise  that  was  simply  demoniacal.  It 
was  the  only  discordant  note  in  our  sunny  visit 
to  Tangier. 

Those  who  make,  as  many  do,  this  excursion 
in  Xovember  or  the  winter  or  early  spring 
months,  will  look  askance  at  this  story  of  a  visit 
in  sunlit  May  days,  with  everything  propitious, 
as  a  fanciful  and  a  "  to  be  taken  with  an  allow- 
ance" tale.  Yet  it  is  none  the  less  truthful. 
One  who  has  not  been  in  the  Orient,  but  who  has 
often  pictured  it  in  imagination,  will,  in  the  life  of 
the  streets,  the  grotesque  little  work-shops,  the 
market  place,  the  picturesquely  draped  and  tur- 
baned  figures  and  the  conceited  camels,  recognize 


AN  OUTLYING  POST.  39 

many  a  characteristic  and  receive  many  a  sugges- 
tion of  the  detail  and  environment  of  the  never 
tiring  Gospel  story.  In  fact,  there  were  times 
when,  to  us,  Tangier  faded  quite  out  of  sight  and 
in  thought  and  feeling  we  were  far  away  among 
the  "  Holy  Judean  hills." 


OUli  FIRST  SPANISH  TOWN. 

OPPOSITE  Gibraltar,  across  the  glistening  waters 
of  the  bay,  beyond  an  ugly  fleet  of  black  dis- 
mantled but  anchored  hulks,  which  serve  as  coal- 
ing stations  for  the  various  steamers,  but  very 
suggestive  of  some  recent  naval  engagement,  lies, 
white  and  low  upon  the  shore,  the  town  of  Alge- 
ciras,  important  to  us  as  the  terminus  of  the 
railway,  the  modern  Pegasus  which  was  to  bound 
with  us  up  and  over  the  hills,  and,  by  repeated 
connections,  carry  us  across  central  Spain  to  San 
Sebastian  upon  the  extreme  northern  frontier. 
Our  glorious  weather  came  suddenly  to  an  end. 
In  the  early  morning  the  sky  was  not  promising, 
but  a  clear  patch  of  blue  here  and  there  gave  us 
hope  of  at  least  a  gray  day.  On  the  wharf  it 
sprinkled,  on  the  bay  it  rained,  and  the  rest  of 
the  morning  it  poured  !  So  our  exit,  our  depart- 
ure was  entirely  devoid  of  those  multitudinous 
elements  of  the  dramatic  and  spectacular  which 
made  our  entree  so  charming  and  delightful.  But 

the  great  rugged  "  mountain  of  Tarik,"  gray  and 
40 


ODR  FIRST  SPANISH  TOWN.  41 

sombre,  drizzling  and  wet,  with  occasional  pearly 
clouds  drifting  and  shattering  against  it,  was 
grand  and  majestic,  defiant  and  leonine  to  the  last. 
From  the  jaws  of  the  stately  monster  we  walked 
immediately  upon  landing  into  the  capacious  maw 
of  the  Spanish  Custom-house.  A  droll  appear- 
ing train  awaited  us.  The  road  is  an  innovation 
of  late  years.  The  bed  did  not  duplicate  that  of 
the  Pennsylvania  railroad  as  it  crosses  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  but  we  were  fairly  comfortable,  and  we 
were  in  /Spain,  where  for  many  a  year  we  had 
builded  castles  like  the  temple  of  old  with  sound 
of  "  neither  hammer  nor  axe  nor  any  tool  of 
iron."  For  a  while  our  way  lay  through  a  valley 
with  gentle  hills  on  every  side.  The  wild  flowers 
were  abundant,  and  often  the  fields  were  carpeted 
with  great  patches  of  crimson,  mustard  yellow, 
blue  and  purple,  and  frequently  were  brilliant  with 
myriads  of  scarlet  poppies.  Ere  long  we  were 
conscious  we  were  upon  an  up  grade,  through  a 
lovely  rolling  hill  country.  Stone  pines  in  great 
groups,  cork  trees,  knotted,  gnarled  and  quaint, 
beautiful  glistening  oaks,  orchard-covered  slopes, 
great  aloes  and  prickly  pear,  gave,  upon  the  ver- 
dant surface  beneath,  a  great  variety  of  form  and 
color;  while  here  and  there  flashed  the  low,  one- 
storied,  whitewashed  Spanish  houses  or  an  old 


42  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

wiitch  tower.  Even  upon  this  insignificant  road 
the  stations  were  made  attractive  and  pretty  by 
an  enclosed  garden  at  either  end  with  fences 
buried  in  a  wealth  of  roses  and  other  blossoms. 
In  two  hours  we  were  high  up  in  the  very  heart 
of  the  mountains.  The  scene  was  not,  of  course, 
as  overwhelming  as  in  the  Swiss  ranges,  but  it 
was  very  beautiful,  and  at  times  really  grand. 
We  were  lifted  up  as  upon  a  ledge,  high  upon 
the  hillside,  and  looked  down  into  depths  where 
a  little  stream  was  breaking  into  foam,  and  up 
and  up  to  the  summit  of  the  opposing  heights. 
It  was  raining,  and  the  heights  above  were  often 
indistinct  or  lost  in  clouds.  While  we  would 
have  preferred  seeing  them  basking  in  joyous 
sunshine,  we  consoled  ourselves  with  the  feeling 
that  probably  they  were  more  impressive  and 
fine  in  the  misty  air.  In  some  places  most  pecu- 
liar narrow  clefts  were  visible  which  geologists 
say  are  the  effects  of  erosion.  Some  look  as  if  a 
narrow  slice  had  been  cut  clean  out  with  a  knife 
in  some  giant  hand.  As  we  neared  the  summit 
we  passed  through  a  succession  of  tunnels  and 
began  the  descent  to  a  richly  fertile  and  highly 
cultivated  country.  Oh !  how  beautiful  it  was, 
with  its  grain  fields,  dark  olive  orchards  and  upon 
fur-away  hillsides  the  gleam  of  many  a  white 


OUR  FIRST  SPANISH  TOWN.  43 

villa,  and  beyond,  the  glorious  hills !  In  descend- 
ing to  and  approaching  Honda,  the  railway  de- 
scribes a  great  lordly,  sweeping  curve  like  unto  a 
capital  "  C."  "  Would  you  stop  at  Ronda  ?  "  we 
asked,  some  months  ago,  of  a  popular  author  fa- 
miliar with  the  route.  "Xo,"  he  replied,  "you 
will  see  all  there  is  from  the  train."  It  seemed 
presumptuous  in  face  of  this  to  stop,  but  sundry 
photographs  in  the  shops  of  Gibraltar  had  made 
our  desire  to  see  the  place,  the  magnificent  bridge 
and  the  strange  cliff  and  ravine,  too  strong  to  be 
denied.  To  this  day  we  fairly  hold  our  breath 
with  thought  of  that  we  so  narrowly  escaped 
losing,  for  it  was  not  only  "Our  first  Spanish 
town,"  unspoiled  by  modern  innovations,  but  the 
lay  of  its  land  and  its  deep  romantic  ravine  were 
strikingly  peculiar ;  while  the  outlook  and  view 
from  the  edge  of  the  cliffs  upon  which  it  stands, 
both  near  and  distant,  were  superb  and  grand. 
A  few  minutes  ride  in  a  "  'bus  "  brought  us  to  a 
unique  little  hotel  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  with 
a  porte-cochere  leading  to  a  patio  or  small  open 
court,  in  the  middle  of  which  was  a  quaint  well- 
curb  and  crane  of  iron  around  which  were  large 
shrubs  in  great  jardinieres.  Two  arcades  sur- 
rounded it,  upon  which  the  rooms  opened.  All 
this  became  commonplace  afterwards,  but  never 


44  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

lost  its  picturesqueness  ami  interest.  At  lunch 
we  were  introduced  to  the  Spanish  custom  of 
cooking  everything  with  oil,  to  which  we  never 
became  quite  reconciled.  Otherwise  the  "  menu  " 
was  palatable  and  good.  We  found  the  long 
vistas  of  the  streets  extremely  pretty,  being  very 
white  and  every  one  with  the  most  ornamental, 
tiny  frame-work  of  iron  called  "  rejas  "  around 
the  windows  with  a  roof  and  bracketed  supports, 
many  with  glass  sash  close  to  the  trellis-work. 
The  effect  was  very  pleasing,  as  it  is  like  an 
abundance  of  small  oriel  and  bay  windows  hang- 
ing to  the  sides  of  the  houses.  As  we  looked 
down  them,  men  with  full  Spanish  cloaks,  women 
in  picturesque  costumes,  or  dashing  figures  with 
"sombreros,"  gave  a  characteristic  and  national 
look  which  was  charming.  We  quickly  sought 
the  celebrated  bridge  over  the  "  Tajo,"  or  chasm, 
or  ravine,  which  is  the  sight  of  Ronda.  The  town 
is  built  upon  an  elevated  rock  or  plain  upon  the 
edge  of  a  sudden  and  abrupt  precipice,  in  some 
places  one  thousand  feet  in  .height.  By  volcanic 
action  this  has  been  cleft  in  twain  making  a  nar- 
row gorge  or  ravine  some  two  hundred  feet  in 
width.  Over  this,  connecting  the  modern  with 
the  ancient  Moorish  town,  is  the  magnificent  stone 
bridge  with  one  lofty,  stately  central  arch,  with, 


OUR  FIRST  SPANISH  TOWN.  45 

upon  either  side,  resting  upon  higher  foundations, 
a  smaller  one.  Through  this  ravine  the  little 
Guadalvin  (deep  stream)  breaks  over  a  rocky  bed, 
and  in  its  tumultuous  course  girdles,  at  the  base 
of  the  precipitous  heights,  the  little  town.  Open 
spaces  in  the  stone  parapet,  guarded,  by  wrought 
iron  grilles,  give  a  fine  view  of  the  ravine  depths 
some  six  hundred  feet  below.  Mills,  mules  and 
workmen  below  look  like  toys.  That  Honda  has 
fallen  into  line  is  demonstrated  by  the  electric 
plant  of  the  town  resting  upon  ancient  Moorish 
foundations,  way  down  this  ravine.  The  view 
upon  one  side  is  contracted  because  of  the  abrupt 
curving  of  the  ravine,  but  the  sides  of  the  "  pud- 
ding stone  "  formation  are,  by  action  of  waters, 
columnar  in  outline  and  effect.  Upon  the  other 
side  the  scene  is  most  varied  and  picturesque, 
little  white  buildings  being  perched  among  the 
rocks,  while  waterfalls  and  cascades  break  over  the 
bed  in  whitened  foam,  and  stretching  way  beyond, 
is  the  green  Vega  or  valley.  Over  the  bridge  and 
through  the  old  Moorish  town  we  passed  on  our 
way  to  the  depths  of  this  wonderful  chasm.  It 
was  by  a  donkey  path,  muddy,  pasty  and  slip- 
pery, following  the  face  of  the  precipice,  ever  with 
lovely  view  of  the  valley,  and  turning  suddenly  at 
last,  revealing  the  mighty  chasm  in  all  its  breath- 


40  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

less  magnificence  and  beauty.  At  point  after 
point  we  paused  for  a  few  moments,  quite  certain 
that  outlook  was  the  best,  only  to  find  the  last 
and  the  lowest  "led  all  the  rest."  The  scene  is 
a  wonderful  combination  of  the  natural  and  arti- 
ficial, the  two  being  so  blended  and  harmonized 
one  hardly  notices  where  one  ends  or  the  other 
begins.  Upon  either  side  rises,  sheer  and  abrupt, 
to  a  height  of  between  six  or  seven  hundred  feet, 
the  walls  of  this  strange  ravine  in  all  shades  of 
yellow  or  brown,  with  here  and  there  a  touch  of 
green  or  dash  of  brilliant  wild  flowers.  Connect- 
ing the  two  is  the  bridge  some  two  hundred  and 
seventy-six  feet  above  the  waters,  a  noble  piece 
of  masonry  of  the  same  tawny  hue.  The  bed  of 
the  ravine  drops  suddenly  a  hundred  feet  or 
more  from  the  foundation  ridge.  Standing  in  the 
lowest  depths  the  picture  is  grand  and  impressive. 
The  great  precipices,  tawny  and  yellow,  streaked 
with  brown,  seamed,  scarred  and  discolored  by 
the  storms  of  centuries,  rise  in  oppressive 
grandeur: — the  peerless  central  arch  or  bridge 
frames  in  a  bit  of  blue  sky  and  a  white  cottage 
upon  the  cactus-crowned  cliff  beyond  ;  upon  the 
edge  of  the  cliffs  at  the  right  appear  a  row  of 
picturesque,  irregular  white  "  casas  "  or  cottages 
with  overhanging  belvedere  gardens,  and  below 


OUR  FIRST  SPANISH  TOWN.  47 

the  arch  tumbles  a  single  slender  waterfall.  The 
water  breaks  upon  and  disappears  amid  a  mass  of 
disordered  boulders,  then  in  whitened  foam  breaks 
and  falls  in  another  fall  into  a  grotto-surrounded 
basin.  The  tawny  heights  glow  here  and  there 
with  brilliant  wild  flowers, — the  dampened 
boulders  display  rich  russets  and  browns,  and,  in 
front  of  the  grottoes,  like  graceful  draperies,  hang 
trailing  vines.  At  the  last  the  troubled,  whitened, 
foaming  waters  pass  through  the  arched  founda- 
tions of  numerous  Moorish  mills.  Beyond  is  the 
level  valley,  a  placid  sea  of  tenderest  green. 
The  old  Moorish  town,  with  its  queer,  crooked 
streets  and  its  white  houses,  pretty  "  patios  "  full 
of  roses  and  flowers  and  with  belvederes  over- 
looking the  valley  and  commanding  the  distant 
mountain  ranges,  being  novel,  simply  enchanted 
us.  We  visited  the  ancient  "  Casa  Mandogon," 
now  uninhabitable,  belonging  to  the  duke  of  the 
same  name,  with  a  vestibule  opening  into  a  lovely 
court  with  moulded  red  brick  arches  supporting 
the  storey  above,  having  also  a  curious  well,  with 
environing  shrubs  and  vines.  An  inner  court  has 
arches  and  columns  with  exquisite  incised  and 
colored  Moorish  tiles  in  the  spandrels  and  an  in- 
geniously carved  balcony  of  wood.  The  roof  tim- 
bers and  supports  of  the  corridors  were  beautifully 


48  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  daintily  carved,  while  at  intervals  the  thick 
layers  of  whitewash  were  scraped  off,  showing 
the  exquisite  incised  work  which  really  covers  all 
the  walls.  One  room  had  a  ceiling  of  tiles  set  be- 
tween elaborately  carved  beams,  and  was  girdled 
with  a  dado  of  pretty  antique  tiles.  We  went 
up  stairs  and  down, — the  rooms  being  empty, — 
admiring  ceiling  and  the  novel  general  effect,  and 
stepped  out  upon  two  belvedere  gardens  over- 
hanging the  sheer  precipice.  The  view  was 
superb,  for,  like  a  flattened  bowl,  from  six  hundred 
to  a  thousand  feet  directly  beneath  us  laid  the 
valley,  every  foot  of  which  was  vivid  with  green 
of  wheat  or  brown  of  fallow  land,  with  here  and 
there  a  white  farmhouse  and  everywhere  the 
winding  roads  with  patient  mules  and  overladen 
donkeys,  looking  like  playthings,  toiling  along. 
In  a  wheat  field  was  a  threshing-floor — a  perfect 
circle  in  the  living  green.  Way  beyond  it  all  are 
the  mountains  that  are  round  about  pretty  Honda. 
The  panorama  of  hills  is  said  to  be  one  of  the 
finest  in  Europe,  but  low  lying  clouds  prevented 
any  other  view  than  the  nearer  ranges.  Occa- 
sionally they  would  lift  momentarily,  giving  us  a 
delightful  glimpse  of  that,  the  full  glory  of 
which  was  hidden  from  our  eyes.  An  ancient  ca- 
thedral full  of  Moorish  and  Roman  architectural 


OUR  FIRST  SPANISH  TOWN.  49 

features  and  odd  and  unique  details,  with  gilding 
executed  three  hundred  years  ago,  but  as  bright 
as  if  done  yesterday  ;  the  oldest  bull  ring  in 
Spain,  one  of  the  things  every  one  wants  to  see 
once, — when  vacant ;  and  a  charming  alameda  or 
Public  Garden  with  lovely  flowering  shrubs  upon 
the  very  edge  of  the  cliff,  and  commanding  a 
superb  view,  made  us  feel  that  with  the  bridge 
and  romantic  ravine  one  could  not  "  see  all  there  is 
from  the  train  "  passing  a  good  quarter  of  a  mile 
away.  As  \ve  passed  away,  the  lifting  clouds 
afforded  a  fine  farewell  view  of  the  mountains. 
For  twenty  miles  we  looked  at  an  old  Roman 
aqueduct  borne  upon  tall  arches, — like  the  ver- 
tebrae of  some  extinct  leviathan.  Then  for  seven 
hours  we  passed  through  a  country  richly  diversi- 
fied in  character  and  surface.  Miles  of  beautiful 
olive  orchards,  vineyards,  thousands  of  ilex  or 
oak  with  glossy  foliage  and  graceful  form,  and  in 
some  places  great,  bare,  gray  mountains,  which,  as 
the  sickly  sunlight  touched  at  times,  seemed  as  if 
covered  with  snow.  We  were  in  Andalusia,  the 
garden  of  Spain,  and  were  simply  amazed  at  the 
height  of  cultivation,  the  look  of  prosperity  and 
the  beautiful  aspect  of  every  orchard-covered  hill- 
side. The  mountains  were  always  with  us,  at 
least  along  the  horizon,  and  we  continually  looked 


50  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

through  solemn  olive  orchards  and  long  rows  of 
stately  stone  pines  upon  their  shadowy,  billowy 
and  rugged  forms.  There  was  little  sign  of  life; 
occasionally  a  herd  of  goats,  a  few  sheep,  but 
no  cattle,  and  frequently  a  scarlet-sash-girdled 
countryman  with  a  sombrero.  Great  tall,  still' 
poplars,  ruined  castles  and  towers,  white-starred 
and  red  poppy  fields,  with  men  ploughing  with 
grotesque  Roman  ploughs  of  wood,  women  along 
the  way  with  railway  signals,  great  banks  yel- 
low with  buttercups,  and  slope  and  slope  of  bil- 
lowy hills  dotted  and  shadowed  with  olive  trees, 
and  distant  views  of  rugged  mountain  heights, 
rilled  up  the  measure  of  the  happy  day,  until,  at 
closing,  the  rain  and  mist  made  all  blurred  and 
indistinct.  .  .  . 

In  a  patter  of  rain  and  darkness  which  might 
be  felt,  we  drove  in  the  evening  through  the 
streets  of  Granada,  and  climbing  the  A 1  ham  bra 
hill,  passed  unconsciously  through  the  celebrated 
avenue  of  elms, — the  royal  road  we  had  expected 
to  see  in  full  glory  of  silver  sheen,  suffused  with 
romantic  and  poetic  sentiment,  for  the  moon  was 
at  the  full. 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY. 

To  lie  down  to  sleep  at  night,  entirely  ignorant 
by  sight,  of  environment,  with  sound  of  drench- 
ing rainfall  and  outer  darkness  obscuring  or 
obliterating  all  detail  of  surrounding ;  to  awaken 
in  the  morning  to  unclouded  sky  of  serenest 
blue,  to  a  world  flooded  with  glowing  sunshine 
(and  that  world,  the  enclosure  of  Alhambra  for- 
tress walls),  to  look  down  upon  garden  court  of 
glistening  glossy  foliage  and  blossoming  flowers, 
— down  a  hillside  with  stately  avenue  of  over- 
arching, interlacing  elms  planted  by  the  immortal 
Wellington, — with  plash  of  fountain  waters  and 
note  of  nightingale  and  song  of  joyous  bird,  and 
air  redolent  with  perfume  of  roses  and  honey- 
suckle, is  an  experience,  a  sensation  never  to  be 
quite  forgotten.  It  was  like  awakening  after  the 
trouble  and  sorrow  of  an  earthly  to  a  new  exist- 
ence,— a  heavenly  sphere !  Such  was  our  induc- 
tion to  the  charmed  enclosure  of  the  red  and 
glowing  encircling  walls  and  the  fairy-like  lights 

and  shadows  of  the  wonderful  Moorish  legacy  of 

51 


52  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

the  Alhuinbru.  Notwithstanding  the  graphic  de- 
scriptions and  exquisite  word-pictures  of  various 
gifted  writers  which  have  become  "  classics,"  few 
find,  upon  arrival,  their  ideal  a  correct  one.  The 
story  of  the  Alhambra  should  be  read  with  a 
ground  plan  before  one,  just  as  the  itinerary  of  a 
country  should  be  followed  upon  a  map.  There 
is  no  need  for  giving  here  statistics  or  historical 
data,  for  they  would  only  be  borrowed  and  are 
better  stated  elsewhere.  But  it  is  not,  perhaps, 
amiss  to  emphasize  that  some  three  miles  of  mas- 
sive walls,  intersected  by  huge  square  towers, 
enclose  the  summit  of  a  high  hill  overlooking  the 
ancient  city  of  Granada.  Within  this  area  are 
gardens,  terraces,  two  large  hotels,  a  village,  a 
cathedral,  half  ruined  towers,  the  unfinished 
palace  of  Charles  V. — a  long  waste  place,  and  oc- 
cupying really  a  very  small  proportion  of  the 
space — the  remains  of  the  old  Moorish  palace,  the 
structure  to  which  the  mind  reverts  at  sound  of 
the  word  "  Alhambra,"  while  in  fact  the  whole 
fortress  is  called  by  that  name.  Even  then  it 
must  be  remembered  that  the  fairy-like  beauty 
and  exuberant  ornament,  so  associated  with  and 
recalled  by  the  name,  are  confined  to  the  in- 
teriors. The  outer  walls  are  utterly  devoid  of 
comeliness  or  picturesque  outlines,  the  towers 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  53 

and  buildings  being  mostly  square  or  angular, 
with  flat  roofs,  and  windowless.  This  bare  and 
almost  unbroken  exterior  is  said  to  be  "  to  guard 
against  the  three  great  enemies  of  the  Moor, — 
the  heat,  the  evil  eye  and  the  projectiles  of  ene- 
mies." But  from  the  opposite  heights  their  red 
and  tawny  walls,  in  some  places  thirty  feet  in 
height,  following  all  the  irregular  surface  of  the 
hillside,  with  the  towers  and  block-like  structures, 
look  singularly  and  strikingly  beautiful,  espe- 
cially when  seen  against  the  white  flashing  slopes 
of  the  far-away  snowy  Sierra  Nevada  range. 
Alas !  the  ravages  of  war,  the  upheaval  of  the 
earth,  the  rapacity  and  neglect  of  conquering 
forces  and  the  slow  remorseless  decay  of  years 
have  obliterated  much  of  this,  considered  by  high 
authorities,  the  most  beautiful  structure  in  the 
world.  But  the  romance,  the  poetry,  the  pictur- 
esque history,  just  as  the  perfume  of  the  roses 
hanging  about  a  shattered  vase,  cling  to  it  still, 
and  make  it  one  of  the  most  enchanting  and 
delightful  visions  upon  the  earth.  It  was  the 
morning  of  the  sixteenth  of  May,  after  a  night  of 
rain,  that  we  awoke  to  sound  of  nightingales 
upon  every  side  and  the  glad  consciousness  that 
we  were,  as  by  magic,  within  the  charmed  pre- 
cincts of  the  storied  Alhambra.  At  an  early 


54  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

hour  we  sauntered  out,  paused  at  once  as  we 
looked  down,  fairly  entranced,  upon  a  stretch  of 
park-like  greenness  with  wealth  of  stately  trees, 
with,  near  by,  a  group  of  bric-a-brac  and  flower 
venders,  and  farther  on  by  huge  fountain  bowl, 
several  women  with  dash  of  scarlet  and  yellow 
in  costume,  with  brass  utensils  and  crude  pot- 
tery, a  picture  of  rare  beauty.  We  walked  along 
by  wide  handsome  road  ways  through  thick  woods 
or  shadowy  glades,  with  here  and  there  the  white 
foam  or  soft  plash  of  fountains  with  the  sunlight 
tingling  through  the  great  elms  and  the  lights 
and  shadows  dancing  with  bewitching,  fascinat- 
ing effect  upon  the  sward, — and  all  the  while, 
the  glad  exultant  cry  in  our  hearts,  "  The  Alham- 
bra !  the  Alhambra ! "  Up  the  hillside  we  climbed 
besieged  and  followed  by  an  importunate  bevy 
of  dark-eyed,  yellow-skinned  gypsy  women  and 
grotesque  little  girls  with  flowers  and  pretty, 
graceful,  dancing  ways,  till  we  stepped  into  level 
gardens  with  profusion  of  box  borders  and  myrtle 
and  other  trees  and  faced  the  great  unfinished 
palace  of  Charles  V.  Scarcely  any  other  struct- 
ure in  the  world  has  so  many  maledictions  poured 
upon  it  as  this  really  fine,  but  uncompleted, 
palace!  And  why?  Because  to  make  room  for 
it,  much  of  the  old  Moorish  palace  was  destroyed, 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  55 

and  because  it  is  so  out  of  tone  and  keeping  with 
its  surroundings  that  it  is  a  blot  upon  a  fairy 
scene,  a  discordant  note  in  a  lovely  harmony. 
An  earthquake  so  unsettled  it  it  was  never  roofed 
in.  With  its  great  rough  block  foundation  storey, 
its  beautiful  pilasters  and  renaissance  windows, 
anywhere  else,  with  its  medallions  and  bas- 
reliefs,  it  would  be  admirable.  We  passed  with 
scarcely  a  glance  at  that  time,  for  beyond  an- 
other garden  gorgeous  with  blossoming  acacia 
trees  and  blooming  roses  (the  famous  place  of 
Cisterns),  rose  before  us  the  Torre  de  la  Vega, 
or  watch  tower,  from  which  one  of  the  finest 
views  in  the  broad  world  is  obtained,  and  it  was 
a  day  of  days  for  it,  the  air  being  wondrously 
clear  and  transparent.  This  old  tower,  like  all 
of  the  Alhambra  pile,  has  no  external  beauty, 
being  devoid  of  any  enrichment  or  ornamenta- 
tion. The  name  suggests  a  tall  campanile,  but 
this  is  only  a  great,  massive,  square  dry-goods- 
box  sort  of  an  affair,  perhaps  sixty  or  more  feet 
square,  with  smooth,  yellow  brown  walls  pierced 
here  and  there  with  unadorned  window  openings. 
An  interior  staircase  conducts  to  a  flat  paved 
roof  guarded  by  a  wall  or  plain  battlement. 
From  one  side  rises  a  simple  belfry  with  a  bell 
which  gives  to  the  farmers  on  the  broad  fertile 


56  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

plain  the  signal  for  turning  the  waters  of  the 
river  upon  their  lands  through  the  irrigating 
canals.  Here  also  an  inscription  records  the  first 
raising  of  the  Christian  flag  in  1492,  after  seven 
hundred  years  of  Moorish  occupation  and  pos- 
session. But,  oh !  the  view  from  it !  It  is  of 
breathless  and  incomparable  beauty  and  may 
well  be  called  "the  most  beautiful  in  the  world." 
After  sitting  there  a  whole  morning  we  felt  earth 
might  possess  a  fairer,  but  surely  not  a  more  im- 
pressive and  lovely  scene.  All  suffused  with  the 
brilliant  and  glorious  sunshine  directly  beneath 
us  was  the  dense  foliage  of  surrounding  gardens, 
several  diminutive,  flower-laden  terraces,  and 
here  and  there  a  tower  or  glimpse  of  wall.  Far- 
ther on  lay,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  the  proud  city  of 
Granada, — a  myriad  of  Spanish  grooved  tile  roofs, 
a  flat  mass  of  white,  blue  and  russet,  broken  only 
by  delicious,  cooling  greenness  of  shrubs  and 
trees,  with  the  grand  Cathedral  rising  tawny  and 
golden  above  them  all.  Beyond  stretched  like  a 
map  the  marvellous  Vega — or  level  valley  called 
"the  last  sigh  of  the  Moor," — verdant  beyond 
picturing,  cultivated,  well  watered  and  fertile  to 
the  last  degree,  broken  only  by  the  darker  hue 
of  orchards  or  trees,  the  shadows  of  passing  white 
clouds  or  the  white  gleam  of  villa  or  hamlet  walls. 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  57 

Along  the  horizon  the  rolling  hills  or  bounding 
mountains,  and  in  the  opposite  direction  against 
a  blue  sky  far  above  the  nearer  hills,  the  cold, 
white,  flashing  range  of  the  snow-covered  Sierra 
Nevadas.  Light  clouds,  like  smoke,  floated  lazily 
over  their  white  faces,  recalling  the  "  touch  the 
mountains  and  they  shall  smoke  "  of  the  Psalmist. 
The  Sierras  present  a  tame  outline  as  compared 
with  Alpine  peaks,  but  their  glorious  whiteness 
above  this  scene  of  eternal  spring  is  exhilarating, 
awe-inspiring  and  impressive.  No  wonder  the 
vanquished  Moors  wept  as  they  looked  back  for 
the  last  time  over  this  vast  and  lovely  plain,  as 
they  passed  over  the  white  Sierras  to  perpetual 
exile ! 

They  told  us  that  in  a  few  weeks  the  fresh 
green  would  be  tarnished  and  burned,  but  that 
day  it  was  simply  enchanting  with  its  marvellous 
freshness  and  verdancy  and  the  cloud-like  phan- 
tom mountains  showing  in  dim,  gray,  shadowy 
outlines  beyond.  No  wonder  Charles  V.,  leaning 
from  one  of  the  windows,  is  said  to  have  ex- 
claimed as  he  beheld  the  glorious  panorama 
spread  at  his  feet,  "  Ill-fated  the  man  who  lost 
all  this."  As  our  stay  lengthened  and  we  be- 
came more  or  less  familiar  with  the  entire  enclos- 
ure, the  views  from  the  numerous  windows,  the 


58  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

outlook  from  the  various  towers,  possessed  a 
charm  and  fascination  for  us  not  surpassed  by 
the  exquisitely  ornamented  courts  and  "  salons" 
we  had  travelled  so  far  to  behold.  One  day  we 
passed  out  of  the  gates,  down  the  hill,  crossed 
the  Darro  in  the  valley  bed,  and  ascended  an 
opposing  height  to  the  plaza  of  the  church  of 
St.  Nicolai.  Hitherto  we  had  looked  only  from 
the  Alhambra,  but  now  we  looked  towards  it,  as 
upon  a  panorama  long  drawn  out,  a  scene  unique 
and  characteristic  and  unrivalled  in  all  Europe, 
as 

"  It  rises  o?er  Granada's  hill 
And  from  its  height  looks  proudly  down. 
The  guard  and  glory  of  the  town." 

Grand  and  impressive  rose  the  steep  hillside, 
verdant,  densely  wooded  and  with  open,  orchard- 
like  spaces,  crested  with  the  processional,  ruddy 
walls,  the  tawny,  orange,  angular  towers  and  a 
tumbled,  confused  mass  of  roofs  and  buildings, 
with  a  cathedral  spire,  and,  lifted  far  above 
against  the  warm  heavenly  blue,  the  dazzling 
white  Sierra  range.  While  not  as  beautiful  as 
Heidelberg,  it  is  a  lordly  and  regal  pile.  The 
long  stretch  of  irregular  walls,  broken  by  fre- 
quent towers,  have  a  strange  motion,  as  of  a 
might}7  army  marching  forth  to  war.  As  a  mass 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  59 

of  color  it  is  unique,  for  the  deepest  and  tender- 
est  greens,  the  glowing  red,  the  richest  orange 
and  soft  yellow,  blend  in  beautiful  and  lovely 
harmony  against  the  background  of  blue  and 
pearly  white.  The  points  of  interest  within  the 
encircling  walls  are  widely  scattered.  At  one 
extremity  stands  the  Gate  of  Justice,  so  familiar 
from  earliest  childhood  by  book  illustrations  as 
to  seem  like  the  face  of  an  old  friend;  a  huge, 
square,  clumsy  structure  pierced  with  a  double- 
arch  passage,  with  the  well-known  sculptured 
hand  upon  one,  and,  upon  that  above,  the  key,  of 
which  the  Moors  proudly  declared,  until  the  hand 
grasped  the  key,  the  Alhambra  could  not  be 
taken.  It  was  the  place  where  Moorish  Kings — 
as  in  the  Orient  to-day — held  open-air  court  of 
justice  for  rich  and  poor.  Almost  at  the  other 
end  are  the  two  towers  of  the  Captiva  and  the 
Infantas,  both  beautifully  restored,  which,  in 
delicacy  of  decoration,  beauty  of  design,  almost 
surpass  anything  in  the  old  Moorish  halls.  They 
are  so  light  and  graceful  and  airy,  that,  standing 
within  them,  one  seems  lost  in  dream  or  fairy- 
land. One  can  scarcely  go  astray  in  the  en- 
chanted enclosure.  Of  course  one  must  "do" 
and  see  it  all,  but  it  is  a  blissful  moment  when, 
having  made  the  lovely  round,  one  can  wander 


(5()  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIX. 

to  and  fro  according  to  his  own  sweet  will.  For 
whether  sauntering  in  the  wooded  park-like  ap- 
proach, basking  upon  the  sunlit  terraces,  daw- 
dling in  the  gardens,  hanging  o^ver  the  walls,  or 
dreamily  wandering  through  the  deserted  halls, 
all  is  a  delight.  In  the  place  or  Garden  of  the 
Cisterns,  always  lying  in  wait,  seeking  whose 
"  pesetas "  he  might  devour,  was  the  Gypsy 
King,  with  his  proud  distinction  of  having  been 
a  model  for  Fortuny  and  Regnault.  His  lithe, 
wiry  figure,  flashing  eyes,  alert  movement  and 
picturesque  costume  of  black  velvet  with  crim- 
son sash,  made  him  in  such  surroundings  inter- 
esting, but  his  insinuating  manner  and  glib  im- 
pertinence were  intolerable.  Yet  as  an  element 
of  the  picturesque,  he  toned  in  prettily  with  the 
dreamy,  sleepy,  romantic  character  of  the  place. 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY. 
(Continued.) 

SOME  months  before  onr  departure  from  home, 
we  were  looking  one  evening  at  a  collection  of 
photographs  of  the  most  celebrated  architectural 
wonders  of  Spain  and  expressing  our  individual 
idea  and  imagination  of  them,  when  a  lady, 
familiar  with  the  country,  remarked,  "If  you 
expect  to  see  the  Court  of  Honor  of  the  Colum- 
bian Exhibition  repeated  in  effect  or  extent,  you 
will  be  woefully  disappointed,  for  the  Alhambra 
is  not  imposing  or  immense,  it  is  simply  deli- 
cious !  "  Being  thus  forewarned  and  forearmed 
we  were  spared  the  disappointment  we  would 
have  felt  in  the  lovely  architectural  creation  of 
the  ancient  Moorish  Palace  of  the  Alhambra,  for 
we  imagined  the  apartments  much  larger,  when 
in  fact  the  whole  suite  of  peerless,  fairy-like  rooms 
is  exceedingly  small.  Otherwise  they  were  all 
our  fancy  painted  them,  and  in  many  respects 
far  more  poetical,  mystical  and  beautiful  than 

our  wildest  dream.    A  lovely  afternoon  we  passed 

Gl 


02  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

into  that  fairy-like  domain  for  the  first  time,  out 
of  the  hard  prosaic  world  of  to-day,  into  a  realm 
where  beauty,  imagination  and  romance  hold 
high,  mysterious  and  fascinating  carnival.  The 
change  in  a  single  moment  from  the  dull,  ugly 
outer  walls  and  court  to  the  celebrated  "  Court 
of  Myrtles"  or  of  "the  Blessing"  (a  rectangle 
some  one  hundred  and  forty  by  seventy-four 
feet),  full  of  sunshine,  which  the  rich  creamy 
walls  seem  to  absorb,  with  a  long  pool  or  cistern, 
bordered  with  a  low  hedge  of  myrtles,  with  an 
occasionalJapanese  medlar  or  other  shrubs,  flash- 
ing with  gold  fish  and  reflecting  the  lovely  arches 
and  surrounding  intricate  wall  ornamentation, 
was  magical  and  bewildering  and  enchanting  to 
the  last  degree.  At  first  it  was  quite  enough  to 
simply  be  there !  to  lose  oneself  in  the  delicious 
air  of  perfect  quiet  and  absolute  repose :  to  feel 
the  delicate  fairy-like  thought  enshrined  and 
crystallized  in  the  ornamentation  on  every  side, 
filling  the  mind  and  heart  like  strains  of  sweetest 
music,  and  the  warm  sunshine  making  glad  and 
joyous  the  mysterious  whole.  The  side  walls 
are  comparatively  plain ;  but  at  one  end  rises 
in  three  tiers  the  loveliest  arches,  windows  and 
loggia,  with  exquisite  ceilings,  all  covered  with 
the  exuberant,  floriated  and  profuse  geometrical 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  £3 

ornamentation  which  is  the  ruling  characteristic 
of  the  Moorish  style,  while  at  the  other,  above 
and  beyond  an  ornate  portico  or  colonnade  of 
elaborately  decorated  arches  and  slender  columns, 
rises  the  huge,  massive,  battlemented  "Tower  of 
Comares" — or  Ambassadors.  What  this  all 
must  have  been  when  overspread  with  rich,  brill- 
iant colors,  intermingled  deftly  with  riotous  ad- 
dition of  gleaming  gold,  is  beyond  imagination 
or  dreaming.  But  we  wondered,  gorgeous,  opu- 
lent and  sensuous  as  it  must  have  been,  if  it 
could  have  surpassed  the  refined,  delicate  effect 
of  the  present  dreamy  softness  and  mellowness 
of  color,  as  if  saturated  with  the  golden  sunshine. 
We  found,  with  every  visit,  that  the  entire  suite 
of  courts  and  apartments  grew  and  unfolded  like 
a  gorgeous  tropical  flower,  revealing  fresh  beautj* 
and  loveliness  at  every  turn.  With  the  exception 
of  the  Court  of  Blessing,  the  Court  of  the  Lions, 
and  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  the  apartments 
seem  surprisingly  small.  But  oriental  life  has 
never  demanded  the  wilderness  of  incongruous 
things  which  make  our  occidental  draAving- rooms 
labyrinths  of  furniture  and  museums  of  bric-a- 
brac.  Only  after  repeated  visits  could  we  look 
at  these  emblazoned  walls  and  embellished  apart- 
ments, without  hopeless  bewilderment  of  vision 


04  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  feeling.  Then  it  became  a  beautiful  har- 
mony, sweeping  us  captive,  far  away  into  the 
land  of  imagery  and  sunny  day-dreams.  Yet 
some  tourists  "  see  it  all  in  a  day,"  and  one  lady 
at  table  d'hote  could  not  be  reconciled  because 
the  intricate,  marvellous,  incised  decorations  of 
the  walls  were  not  cut  in  marble,  instead  of  the 
adamantine  plaster  or  stucco.  From  the  Court 
of  Blessing  one  passes  into  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors beneath  the  Tower  of  Comares,  the  only 
apartment  which  approaches  the  designation  of 
grand,  imposing  or  sublime.  It  is  but  thirty- 
seven  feet  square,  but  the  domed  ceiling  of  rich 
dark  wood,  a  labyrinth  of  intricately  interwoven 
geometrical  carvings,  cunningly  inlaid  with  stars, 
discs,  crescents  and  rays  of  pearl,  like  a  firma- 
ment studded  with  constellations,  is  some  seventy- 
five  feet  above  the  pavement.  With  its  lofty 
walls  daintily  and  elaborately  decorated,  showing, 
inwrought  with  the  geometrical  lines  in  the  most 
unexpected  places,  the  Arabic  characters  signify- 
ing "  There  is  no  conqueror  but  God," — heavy 
stalactite  cornice,  rows  of  deep  embrasured 
windows  filled  in  with  frost-like  arches  and 
exquisite  screens,  each  framing  in  a  lovely  and 
finished  picture  of  the  outside  world,  a  dado  or 
"aznlejos"  of  superb  tiles,  it  is  indeed  a  regal, 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  65 

lordly  apartment,  fit  to  enshrine  a  proud,  royal 
throne.  We  had  looked  at  the  summit  of  this 
tower  with  inexpressible  longing,  but  the  ascent 
to  it  is  not  generally  allowed.  Finally,  after 
innumerable  words  and  considerable  diplomacy, 
our  friend,  who  for  thirty-five  years  has  lived  in 
Spain,  secured  permission  to  visit  the  roof.  A 
narrow,  rickety  staircase,  often  wholly  dark,  led 
to  it.  As  we  anticipated,  the  view  upon  every 
side  is  breathless  in  extent,  beauty  and  inter- 
est. One  side  overlooks  directly  the  Court  of 
Myrtles  or  Blessing,  with  its  great  green-bordered 
pool,  like  a  huge  mirror,  reflecting  the  graceful 
arches  and  wondrous  ornamentation.  The  scene 
is  so  serene  and  holy  that  it  is  difficult  to  realize 
the  bloody  horrors  history  tells  us  were  enacted 
here.  The  best  idea  of  the  general  ground  plan 
of  the  whole  palatial  pile  is  obtained  from  this 
elevation.  It  is  a  motley  confusion  of  rough 
tiled  roofs,  with  a  glimpse  of  the  "Court  of 
Lions,"  and  that  of  "the  Oranges,"  that  one 
looks  down  upon  with  no  revelation  of  the  beauty 
it  enshrines,  suggesting  rather  a  house  added  to 
and  added  to,  whenever  the  erratic  owner  had 
anything  to  expend.  High  above  the  irregular 
roof  appeared  a  church  and  tower,  the  palace  walls, 
great  trees,  and  way  beyond  against  the  warm 
5 


00  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

blue  of  sky,  the  eternal,  perpetual  whiteness  of 
the  Sierra  range.  To  one  side  was  the  Court  of 
Oranges,  a  shoal  of  greenness  in  the  dazzling 
white,  with  pretty  loggia,  and  the  windows  of  the 
rooms  occupied  long  years  ago  by  Washington 
Irving,  acacias,  cypress  and  a  tall  basin  fountain. 
Another  court  showed  the  low,  droll,  pierced  domes 
of  the  baths,  while  the  Court  of  Cypresses  with 
paved  enclosure  was  a  veritable  apotheosis  of  the 
much  despised  cobble-stone.  From  the  opposite 
side  one  looks  to  a  depth  of  six  or  seven  hundred 
feet  below,  and  off  upon  the  city  with  a  multitude 
of  curious  lookouts,  or  loggia  upon  the  roofs,  and 
a  myriad  of  brilliant  enclosed  miniature  gardens, 
and  upon  a  hillside  burrowed  with  the  huts  and 
habitations  of  the  gypsies, — a  most  fascinating 
scene.  Upon  another,  the  eye  rests  upon  the  red 
walls  and  massive  towers  and  a  great  terraced 
garden  with  geometrical  lines  of  quaint,  stiff  box, 
with  glowing  masses  of  gorgeous  roses  and  clouds 
of  white  syringas — and  then  beyond,  over  the 
great  sweeping  valley — brilliant  with  sunshine 
and  flecked  with  many  a  cloud  shadow.  Almost 
adjoining  this  tower,  quite  hidden  by  an  insignifi- 
cant building,  is  a  miniature  mosque  of  extreme 
delicacy  and  fabulous  beauty,  with  indescribably 
beautiful  carved  and  gilded  roof,  fine  tall  dados 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  67 

and  enriched  arches.  It  is  a  glory  of  azure  and 
scarlet  and  burnished  gold,  and  is  a  favorite  sub- 
ject and  background  with  artists.  Xear  it  is  a 
small  patio  or  court,  finely  restored,  with  arches, 
marble  columns,  fayade  and  cornice  fairly  covered 
with  intricate,  lace-like  designs,  and  inscriptions 
cunningly  inwrought  with  the  florid  and  graceful 
conceits. 

When  this  regal  fortress  passed  out  of  the  con- 
trol of  the  Moors  forever,  the  incoming  Christian 
powers  covered  the  lovely  walls  which  were  so 
rich  and  sumptuous  with  wonderful  incised, 
colored  and  gilded  ornamentation,  with  several 
layers  of  whitewash,  or  plaster,  in  order  to  oblit- 
erate the  texts  from  the  Koran  so  frequently  in- 
corporated (which,  however,  were  good  enough 
for  Moslem  or  Christian,  either  one).  It  seems 
like  sacrilege, — a  bit  of  pious  vandalism  !  So  the 
taking  of  the  fragmentary  frieze  of  the  Parthenon, 
long  years  ago,  by  Lord  Elgin  to  England,  may 
also  seem.  But  those  precious  fragments  and 
specimens  of  Grecian  art  would  long  since  have 
been  burned  for  lime,  destroyed,  lost  forever,  but 
for  Lord  Elgin's  appreciation  and  action. 

So  in  this  rude  covering  of  the  Alhambra  walls 
has  lain  their  preservation  and  safety,  and  we 
owe  it  to  the  vandalism  of  opposing  religions 


68  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

that  they  are  in  existence  to-day !  Through  all 
the  conflict  and  strife  and  changes  of  years,  and 
the  even  more  fearful,  because  insidious,  destruc- 
tion of  neglect,  the  faithful  plaster,  chrysalis-like, 
has  imprisoned  and  preserved  this  rich  legacy  of 
a  dead  past,  until,  within  comparatively  few  years, 
infinite  patience,  enthusiastic  skill  and  loving  re- 
search, have  as  it  were  carved  them  afresh,  to 
be  a  joy  forever. 

"  Brightest  gem  on  Moslem  brow. 
Brightest  wreath  by  Christian  won, 
Brightest  shade  of  greatness  gone." 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY. 

(Concluded.) 

FROM  the  poetic  stillness  and  enchanting  weird- 
ness  of  the  stately  Court  of  Blessings  or  Myrtles, 
one  passes  beneath  low  arches,  crosses  a  narrow 
corridor,  and  the  heart  stands  still,  for  at  glance, 
in  all  its  glorious  beauty,  flooded  with  golden 
sunshine,  lies  before  him  the  famous  Court  of  the 
Lions,  a  veritable  Holy  of  holies  in  this  fair  and 
sumptuous  tabernacle  of  architectural  loveliness. 
The  familiar  photographs  and  engravings,  while 
faithfully  portraying  the  beautiful  groupings,  ex- 
quisite details  and  fairy-like  general  effect,  con- 
vey an  erroneous  impression, — that  of  a  much 
more  extensive  and  spacious  enclosure.  The  re- 
gal court  always  seems  small !  It  is  easy  to  say 
it  is  a  rectangular  court — one  hundred  and  twenty- 
six  by  seventy-three  feet  in  extent,  surrounded 
upon  all  sides  by  a  low,  cool  arcade,  with  slender, 
delicate  shafts  of  marble,  so  softened  and  yellowed 
in  tint  as  to  seem  of  onyx  or  alabaster,  exquisite, 

graceful  capitals  or  arches,  spandrels  -and  wall 

09 


70  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

face  covered  with  infinitesimal,  intricate,  oft-re- 
peated designs  of  marvellous  grace  and  variety, 
with  at  either  end  a  little  square  porch,  much 
like  a  pall  of  richest  guipure  lace,  projecting  into 
the  open  sunlit  space,  in  the  centre  of  which 
stands  the  famous  fountain,  an  immense  bowl 
sculptured  from  a  single  block,  supported  by 
twelve  conventionalized  and  grotesque  Lions. 
That  is  what  you  see  in  the  bewilderment  and 
confusion  of  surprise  and  delight,  but  it  does  not 
picture  it,  for  it  is  indescribable.  It  is  the  "  dolce 
far  niente  "  of  architecture  !  The  airiness,  grace 
and  phantom-like  effect  cannot  be  portrayed  with 
words.  It  does  not  awe,  overwhelm,  repel  or  op- 
press as  many  a  mighty  architectural  thought 
wrought  in  stone  is  apt  to  do.  It  simply  en- 
thralls and  enchants  with  its  riotous  luxurious 
and  sensuous  grace  and  elegance.  It  is  a  song,  a 
poem,  that  tingles  long  in  the  memory,  when  per- 
haps the  solemn  prose  of  some  mighty  structure 
has  lost  its  hold.  It  is  a  place  for  the  artist,  the 
poet,  the  dreamer,  for  a  hard-headed,  matter-of- 
fact  person  would  pass  through  it,  and,  likely, 
brush  all  this  exuberance,riotousness  and  elegance 
of  ornamentation  out  of  existence,with  a  sweeping 
"overdone,"  or  "  too  much  of  it."  Perhaps  there 
is  dangerof  its  cloying  some  prosaic  palates,  with 


The  Alhambra,  Court  of  Lions. 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  71 

its  linked  sweetness,  much  crowded  and  yet  long 
drawn  out.  It  is  one  of  the  places  in  the  world, 
where  one  of  appreciative  mind  wishes  to  be 
alone,  to  sit  in  the  cool  shadows  of  the  quiet  ar- 
cades, or  even  in  the  glare  and  stillness  of  the  open 
court,  and  let  imagination  and  sentiment  hold 
the  reins,  to  see  that  which  is  suggested  and 
not  simply  that  which  is  material.  Entranced, 
spell-bound  and  enchanted,  one  may  sit  by 
the  hour  in  that  matchless,  dreamy,  peerless 
court,  without  grasping  the  ignis  fatuus  of  its 
charm  and  beauty  and  yet  be  saturated,  filled  to 
the  overflowing  with  its  wondrous  glory  and  del- 
icacy of  form  and  detail, — its  fancy,  thought  and 
feeling,  fixed  forever  in  imperishable  design.  It 
ceases  to  be  a  building, — it  melts  into  a  dream, 
dissolves  into  a  fairy  illusion !  Sitting  there, 
with  the  sunlight  coming  and  going,  resting  upon 
the  consummate  traceries  or  passing  through 
the  pierced  openings,  it  seems  like  a  flock  of 
beautiful  white  birds  of  exquisite  plumage  that 
has  alighted  in  its  glad  flight  for  a  moment,  and 
which  at  any  time  may  spread  their  golden  wings 
and  disappear  from  sight.  Again,  the  wind 
action  and  play  of  frost-work  seem  to  encompass 
one  around  and  about,  occasioning  almost  a  terror 
or  fear  lest,  in  the  warm  glowing  sunlight,  it  may 


72  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

dissolve  ere  its  beauty  is  fixed  upon  the  mind. 
Again,  the  walls  seem  covered  with  richest  and 
costliest  embroideries ;  soft,  creamy  altar  lace 
seems  pendant  between  the  delicate  arches.  It 
is  a  bride,  all  glorious,  adorned  for  her  husband  ! 
Surely  this  heavenly  vision  of  intricate,  sumpt- 
uous ornament  of  matchless  and  suggestive 
grace, — this  weird  procession  of  slender  columns, 
glowing  as  if  within  their  hearts  they  held  ab- 
sorbed long  centuries  of  sunshine,  cannot  be  re- 
duced to  words !  Arrested,  petrified  beauty  and 
loveliness  alone  express,  as  of  solemn  Alpine 
heights,  the  sentiment  and  significance  of  that 
rich,  mellow,  voluptuous  scene.  With  impressive 
beauty  that  cannot  be  delineated,  stands  in  the 
centre  of  the  unbroken  enclosure,  the  beautiful 
bowl,  sustained  by  the  grotesque  lions.  O'Shea 
says  they  "  must  be  looked  upon,  not  in  a  sculpt- 
ural way,  but  heraldically,  as  of  emblems  of 
strength,  power  and  courage."  It  is  well  to  re- 
member this,  for  otherwise  these  whimsical  rep- 
resentations would  require  the  explanatory  legend 
oft  placed  beneath  a  child's  drawing,  "  This  is  a 
Lion."  It  is  all  as  still  and  peaceful  as  if  human 
life  had  not  been  brutally  disregarded  also  here, 
and  its  very  stones  stained  with  human  blood. 
The  ugly  facts  of  history  will  obtrude  upon  this 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  73 

vision,  with  its  dream  of  fair  women  and  brave 
men.  Little  domes  and  towers  rise  above  the 
low  sky  line,  and  the  blue  sky  and  floating  clouds 
beyond  resolve  it  into  a  dream  beside  which  the 
tales  of  Arabian  Nights  fade  into  insignificance. 
There  is  no  sign  of  life,  no  suggestion  of  motion 
save  the  dear  little  martlets, — the  only  birds  held 
sacred  in  Spain,  because  they  drew  the  thorns 
from  the  head  of  our  suffering  Lord, — which  fly 
to  and  fro,  twitter  and  disappear  in  the  intricate 
open  fretwork  of  numerous  spandrels.  To  see, 
as  passing  clouds  may  permit  it,  the  sunlight 
come  and  go  upon  the  delicious,  creamy  ground- 
work, to  watch  the  reflected  light  as  it  strikes 
the  inner  arches  and  porticos,  and  to  note  the 
blue  of  sky  through  the  floriated  open  work  and 
lace-like  spaces,  is  bewildering  and  fascinating 
beyond  expression. 

To  one  side  a  portico  opens  into  the  well-known 
"  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages,"  to  which  is  attached 
a  horrible  story  of  blood  and  carnage,  fortunately, 
largely  legendary  and  unreliable.  It  is  a  stately 
and  impressive  room  with  alcoves  upon  either  side, 
a  gorgeous,  pendant,  stalactite  ornamented  dome 
and  a  fountain  in  the  centre  said  to  be  stained 
with  blood.  The  side  walls,  above  a  superb  dado 
of  raised  and  colored  Moorish,  tiles,  are  a  solid 


74  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

muss  of  intricate  floriated  and  geometrical  designs. 
Through  window  arches  in  the  dome  filters  a 
soft  dreamy  light,  giving  a  most  unreal  and  frost- 
like  look  to  the  whole  superb  apartment.  Directly 
opposite,  and  opening  in  the  same  way  upon  the 
Court,  is  the  "  Hall  of  the  Two  Sisters,"  so  named 
from  two  large  slabs  set  in  floor  or  pavement. 
The  interior  is  the  culmination  of  all  that  is  mys- 
tical, poetical,  suggestive,  harmonious  and  be- 
wildering in  the  whole  extensive  pile.  Some  one 
has  truthfully  said  "a  petrified  veil  of  the  most 
delicate  lace  covers  every  wall,  formed  partly 
by  flowers  and  geometrical  patterns,  but  in  the 
main  intention  of  its  fretwork  as  strictly  re- 
ligious as  the  sculpture  of  a  Gothic  cathedral,  and 
filled  with  sentences  and  maxims  from  the  Koran, 
which  it  is  intended  to  bring  constantly  before 
the  eyes  and  hearts  of  the  beholders."  Alas ! 
as  one  reads  of  the  life  around  which  this  struct- 
ure rose  and  which  it  enfolded,  it  is  impossible 
to  ignore  the  old  maxim,  "Familiarity  breeds 
contempt."  Perhaps,  as  in  the  case  of  a  brilliant 
architect,  who  inscribed  among  the  sumptuous 
decorations  of  a  ceiling  in  his  house  a  text  of 
Scripture  so  utterly  at  variance  with  his  record 
as  to  call  forth  the  cynical  surmise  that  "  he  put 
all  the  religion  lie  had  upon  the  wall."  This  ex- 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  75 

qnisite  apartment,  designed  for  the  Sultanas  and 
their  slaves,  defies  description.  Not  a  foot  of  wall 
or  domed  ceiling  space  but  is  a  study  of  delicate, 
intricate  and  lovely  design.  Alcoves,  recesses, 
windows,  arches,  galleries  and  dome  are  loaded 
with  the  richest  decoration  conceivable.  A  won- 
derful ceiling,  composed  of  some  five  thousand 
pieces,  hangs  and  droops  in  graceful  stalactites 
as  in  the  Cave  of  Luray.  A  sumptuous  dado  sur- 
rounds it,  windows  appear  above  filled  with  ex- 
quisite screens  of  wood,  and  all  through  the  bewil- 
dering ornamentation  is  inwrought  an  oriental 
poem.  While  the  room  is  square,  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  vaults  and  domes  is  such  that  the 
lofty  ceiling  is  octagonal.  It  stands  like  a  bride 
enveloped  in  richest  and  costliest  lace, — a  won- 
der unto  many.  Through  an  opening  is  seen  a 
tiny  boudoir,  a  perfect  gem,  into  which,  looking 
through  three  arches  which  seem  hung  with  rich 
lace,  the  eye  rests  upon  a  superb  wall  surface 
like  heavy  embroidery  of  gold,  pierced  with  two 
graceful  openings  through  which  gleam  the  trees 
and  flowers  of  the  Lindaraja.  Across  one  end  of 
the  Court  of  the  Lions  is  the  Hall  of  Justice,  a 
long  apartment  of  seventy-five  feet,  so  divided  by 
arches,  alcoves,  etc.,  as  to  make  a  suite  of  seven 
richly  adorned  and  decorated  rooms, — a  most 


7G  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

superb  vista.  By  many,  because  of  the  minute- 
ness and  delicacy  of  the  wall  ornamentation, 
these  are  considered  the  finest  of  all.  Yet  in  a 
general  sense,  they  but  repeat  the  others,  save 
that  in  the  elaborate  decorative  designs,  by  com- 
mand of  Queen  Isabella,  is  inserted  the  yoke  and 
arrows  of  the  Catholic  Kings  and  the  oft  recur- 
ring legend  "  Tanto — monta,"  which  is  said  to  be 
old  Castilian,  meaning  that  one  is  as  good  as  the 
other, — Ferdinand  as  good  as  Isabella.  Curious 
and  interesting  are  the  Royal  baths,  a  number 
of  small  rooms  much  adorned  with  exquisite  tiles 
and  the  wondrous  stucco  work.  One,  the  place 
of  repose  after  the  bath,  has  been  so  beautifully 
restored,  colored  and  gilded  as  to  be  the  loveliest 
of  all.  It  is  very  charming,  having  two  alcoves 
with  elevated  couches,  marble  columns  support- 
ing an  ornate  gallery  for  musicians,  a  central 
fountain,  and  over  all  a  lovely  ceiling  much 
adorned.  A  little  outside  gallery  led  us  to  a 
modern  decorated  boudoir  of  the  Sultana — sur- 
rounded by  a  loggia, — overhanging  the  walls  and 
commanding  a  most  picturesque  view  of  the 

Darro,  and  the  city  and  hills  beyond. 

***** 

In  the  official  bureau  flanking  the  entrance,  we 
were  shown  an  old  register  with  the  autograph. 


A  MOORISH  LEGACY.  77 

"Washington  Irving,  1829."  It  was  a  peculiar 
gratification  to  be  allowed,  later,  to  visit  the  suite 
of  rooms  occupied  by  him  in  those  years  so  long 
ago,  by  royal  consent,  and  in  which  much  of  his 
literary  work  relating  to  the  Alhambra  and  Spain 
was  executed.  They  are  entirely  different  in  char- 
acter and  decoration  from  those  of  the  stately 
courts  and  sumptuous  "  salons."  All  overlooked 
a  small  secluded  court,  now  dark  with  sombre 
cypress  and  glistening  orange  trees.  Two  of  the 
apartments  (one  of  which  was  his  working  room) 
were  large  and  spacious,  with  lofty,  deep  panelled 
ceilings  of  dark  wood,  while  three  or  four  had 
low  ceilings  covered  with  scarlet  and  gold  mould- 
ings, which  formed  hexagon  spaces  in  which  were 
painted  fruit  and  flowers.  Were  we  surfeited 
with  the  wonderful  interlaced  scintillations  of 
Saracenic  genius  upon  the  palatial  walls,  or  was 
it  the  triumph  of  mind  over  matter,  the  eternal 
survival  of  the  fittest,  that  these  rooms,  so  sombre 
and  insignificant,  compared  with  the  regal  halls 
through  which,  as  bewildered  as  if  in  fairyland, 
we  had  wandered,  possessed  an  interest  and 
magnetism  to  us  none  others  held  ?  No  wonder 
a  fair  young  girl  ran  back  for  her  miniature  copy 
of  Irving's  Alhambra,  that  she  might  feel  that, 
for  a  few  momenta,  nt  least,  it  had  been  in  the 


78  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

room  where  its  text  was  penned !  Ah  well !  the 
tale  of  war  and  carnage, — the  romance  of  intrigue 
and  deceit,  the  glamour  of  beauty  and  courage, 
and  the  poetry  of  love  and  gallantry  with  which 
the  very  name  "  Alhambra  "  is  saturated,  must 
pass  away,  but  the  beneficent  work  of  our  genial 
and  gentle  Irving  wrill  live  and  grace  the  homes 
of  men  long  after  this  lovely  fabric  will  have 
crumbled  into  dust. 


SOME  GRANADAIN  FRAGMENTS. 

AROTJKD  every  great  exhibition  there  clusters  a 
variety  of  attractions  (we  call  them  "  side  shows"), 
some  of  which  we  would  not  like  to  quite  forget. 
So,  although  the  Alhambra  dominates  everything 
at  Granada,  around  it  are  many  objects  none  the 
less  interesting  and  entertaining.  Perched  upon 
the  steep  hillside  beyond  the  Alhambra  and  over- 
looking it,  the  city  of  Granada,  and  way  off  over 
the  plain,  and  in  fact  "  all  creation,"  is  the  "  Gen- 
eralife,"  probably  originally  a  watch  tower,  then 
a  summer  palace  or  villa  of  the  Sultans,  but  now, 
by  marriage  settlements,  the  unoccupied  pos- 
session of  an  Italian  Ducal  family.  As  the  ram- 
bling buildings,  romantic  loggia  and  quaint  towers 
(only  a  small  part  of  the  original),  surrounded  by 
a  succession  of  embowered  terraces,  shady  nooks, 
flower-crowded,  sunlit  courts,  with  fabulous  pro- 
fusion of  roses  and  blossoming  shrubs,  cypress 
and  flowering  trees  and  fountains,  it  far  sur- 
passes the  Alhambra  in  everything  save  the 
lavishly  decorated  interior  walls.  In  the  fresh- 
ness of  early  morning,  in  the  glorious  sunshine, 

79 


80  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

we  passed  along  the  Alharnbra  hills,  crossed  a 
little  glen,  and  ascending,  soon  entered  a  tall,  iron 
gateway  and  walked  along  a  road  bordered  upon 
either  side  with  hedges  full  of  lovely  roses,  then 
into  a  curving  path  of  great  beauty,  closely  lined 
with  tall,  sombre  cypresses,  trimmed  closely  and 
pyramidal  in  shape.  It  was  as  hushed,  mys- 
terious and  sombre  as  a  place  for  the  dead.  The 
gray  of  the  pathway,  the  sombre,  dense  green  of 
the  tall  cypress  trees  and  the  blue  sky  far  away, 
with  the  wealth  of  golden  sunshine,  made  a  beau- 
tiful scene,  recalling  Whittier's 

' '  Alas  for  him  who  never  sees 
The  sun  shine  through  the  cypress  trees. " 

We  came  into  a  small  insignificant  court,  made 
glorious  by  a  palonia  tree,  bowed  down  with 
great  wisteria-colored  blossoms,  passed  through 
a  low  wooden  door,  and  lo !  a  perfect  paradise ; 
a  long,  rectangular,  open  court  laid  out  in  box- 
lined  flower-beds,  with  water-jets  everywhere 
and  plants,  shrubs  and  rosebushes  covered  with 
brilliant  blooms.  At  one  side  rose  a  wall  fif- 
teen or  eighteen  feet  high,  which,  in  turn,  sup- 
ported another  terrace  above.  Against  this, 
orange  trees  with  golden  fruit,  immense  rose- 
bushes, heavy  with  blossoms,  and  a  variety  of 


SOME  GRANADAIN  FRAGMENTS.  81 

climbing  plants  were  smoothly  trained.  One 
mass  of  blood-red  roses  covered  a  space  of  thirty 
by  fifteen  feet.  The  great  branches,  with  hun- 
dreds of  the  gorgeous  red  roses,  swayed  in  the 
breeze  or  laid  against  the  wall  in  solid  mass  of 
color,  startling,  brilliant  and  gloriously  beautiful. 
Upon  a  little  terrace  above,  a  wall  was  covered 
with  the  tiny,  saffron  cluster  "Banksia"  roses. 
Against  a  column  where  we  entered  was  a  mass  of 
"Marechal  Niels  "  so  graceful  and  abundant  as  to 
almost  seem  artificial.  Opposite  the  entrance, 
at  the  other  end  of  the  court,  was  a  two-storey 
loggia  with  the  airy,  decorated  Moorish  arches 
and  columns,  entwined  and  garlanded  with  the 
loveliest  white  and  yellow  roses  imaginable,  and 
everywhere,  through  the  warm  colors  of  the 
blossoms  and  the  cool  green  of  foliage,  visible  in 
the  wall  ornamentation,  the  oft-repeated  "  God 
alone  is  Conqueror."  Opposite  the  cloud  of  blood- 
red  roses  was  an  open  loggia  or  corridor  faced 
with  low  Moorish  horseshoe  arches,  having  upon 
the  outer  side  a  succession  of  window  openings. 
Leaning  out  of  them  one  overlooks  terraced 
gardens  with  noble  evergreens,  quaintly  trimmed 
cypresses  and  a  wilderness  of  flowers,  down  and 
down,  and  across  the  verdant  and  wooded  valley 
to  the  orange-red  walls  of  the  Alhambra,  with  its 


82  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

pile  of  roofs  and  massive  towers,  and  beyond, 
over  the  Vega,  the  eye  rests  at  last  upon  the 
mountains  that  fade  out  of  sight  in  the  hazy  air. 
From  this  we  entered  the  villa  and  passed  through 
several  rooms,  with  curious  inlaid  ceilings  of  wood, 
unfurnished  save  a  number  of  portraits  of  no 
artistic  merit.  Every  window  commanded  some 
fascinating  outlook  over  little  flowery  terraces 
beneath,  and  the  distant  country.  A  few  steps 
up  led  us  into  a  wide  corridor  with  arches, 
against  which  great  rose  vines  tossed  a  cascade  of 
golden  and  dazzling  white.  Each  column  was  a 
mass  of  foliage  and  blossoms,  and  overhead  trailed 
and  swayed  the  great  yellow  and  white  roses. 
From  it  we  looked  down  upon  a  great  square 
open  court,  overshadowed  by  curious  trees,  with 
long  cisterns  or  pools,  fountains  and  vases,  and,  as 
always,  a  lavish  wealth  of  flowers.  At  the  opposite 
end  a  gateway,  surmounted  by  lions  and  a  crest, 
led  up  a  stone  staircase  lined  with  potted  plants, 
into  a  terraced  garden  with  box  borders  and  view 
after  view,  enchanting  and  bewildering.  Then 
through  embowered  "  allees "  into  an  elevated 
loggia  with,  below,  a  court  shadowed  by  cypress, 
the  soft  drip  of  waters  and  plash  of  fountains, 
flashing  of  gold  fish  in  the  sunlit  pools,  and 
always,  always  the  cloud  of  golden  roses.  From 


Garden  of  the  Generalife,  Granada. 


••  ^  "•an 


SOME  GRANADAIN  FRAGMENTS.     83 

this  loggia  the  everlasting  hills  loomed  up  upon 
one  side,  eternal  springtime  upon  the  other, 
while  solemn  cypresses  rose  against  the  bluest  of 
skies.  Up  and  up  stone  staircases  with  queer 
little  water  ducts  upon  the  balustrade,  with  the 
rapid  flowing  waters  of  the  Darro,  we  went  to  a 
terrace  with  many  potted  plants  and  a  higher 
tower  with  loggia.  As  we  looked  from  it  we 
wondered  if  anywhere  in  the  broad  world  there 
was  any  that  excelled  it.  Immediately  below, — 
terraced  gardens  with  wealth  of  color,  magnificent 
acacias  and  roses,  drolly  trimmed  cypress,  stiff, 
quaint  box  borders  in  geometrical  lines,  a  great 
tree  bowed  down  with  purple  blossoms,  queer 
busts  of  majolica  upon  tall  pedestals,  and  across 
the  glen  the  glowing  fortress  walls,  and  beyond 
the  wondrous  valley,  shadowy  mountains,  and 
always  overlooking  the  scene,  the  cold,  gleaming, 
snow-crested  Sierras.  To  one  side  the  olive 
orchard  hillside,  and  above  it  all  an  old  ruin  upon 
the  heights,  called  the  "  seat  of  the  Moor."  From 
there  it  seemed  as  if  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
were  spread  out.  The  view  of  the  Alhambra  is 
so  satisfactory,  for  one  can  follow  the  contour  of 
its  walls,  see  its  various  towers  and  all  the  world 
beside !  Way  across  the  green  valley  plain, 
basking  in  the  sunshine,  is  historic  Santa  Fe, 


84  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

from  whence  Columbus,  after  years  of  effort, 
turned  away  discouraged,  only  to  be  recalled  by 
Isabella.  At  our  feet  to  the  right  rose  the  hill, 
burrowed  as  by  rabbits,  in  which  the  gypsies  live, 
Afar  off  a  gravelled  plaza,  now  dark  with  trees, 
is  memorable  as  the  place  where  the  last  Moorish 
ruler,  Boabdil,  gave  up  the  keys  and  passed  over 
the  Sierras  never  to  return  again.  And  all  this 
in  one  sweeping  glance. 

So  many  writers  speak  of  Spain  as  barren, 
cheerless,  desolate  and  treeless,  that  it  was  an 
agreeable  surprise  to  find,  all  the  way  from  Gib- 
raltar to  San  Sabastian,  a  stretch  of  greenness, — a 
"battle  of  flowers."  Gibraltar  was  a  glory  of 
color,  Andalusia  delicious  with  olive  and  orange 
groves  and  verdant  hillsides,  Granada,  Seville, 
Cordova  and  Aranjuez,  garlanded  as  for  a  fete, 
and  even  the  waste  places  along  the  railway  a 
blaze  of  scarlet  poppies. 

In  the  shadow  of  the  encircling  Alhambra  forti- 
fications are  the  gardens  of  Seiior  Calderon,  en- 
closed by  three  miles  of  wall.  Forty  years  ago 
it  was  a  barren,  rocky  hillside,  but  an  expenditure 
of  a  million  of  dollars  has  made  the  desert  place 
glad,  so  that  it  blossoms  like  a  rose.  The  exten- 
sive enclosure  is  a  labyrinth  of  rose-hedged  paths, 


SOME  GRANADAIN  FRAGMENTS.  85 

long  grape-covered  arbors,  lovely  resting  places 
beneath  great  trees  and  numerous  terraces 
covered  and  overwhelmed  with  roses,  orange 
flowers  and  other  blooming  plants.  Through 
charming,  winding  paths  one  conies  at  last  to  a 
great  terrace  laid  out  in  Italian  style  with  angular 
borders,  fountains  and  statuary.  Up  and  down 
we  passed  to  terraces  with  enormous  palms  and 
evergreens,  with  orange  trees  white  with  blossoms, 
and  air  heavy  with  perfume,  with  wide-spreading 
lindens  like  bowers,  and  all  the  while  the  peer- 
less outlook  over  the  Vega  and  distant  mountains. 
Peasant  houses,  great  thickets  of  laurels,  and  high 
walls  hidden  by  huge,  solid  masses  of  golden 
MarechalNiel  and  pure  white  roses,  gave  charming 
variety.  A  high,  red,  rough  wall  suggests  some 
old  castle  ruin,  but  a  staircase  to  the  top  reveals, 
irregular  in  shape  with  island  in  centre,  the  costly 
reservoir  supplied  by  a  private  aqueduct  from  the 
Sierras,  which  keeps  this  earthly  paradise  ever 
fresh  and  green.  As  with  almost  all  Spanish 
estates,  the  villa  is  a  modest  affair  just  meant  to 
sleep  in,  for  the  shady  terraces  give  life  and 
refreshment. 

We  drove  out  of  town  to  the  Archbishop's 
summer     palace,    surrounded    also    by     lovely 


86  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

gardens.  It  is  called  Zubia,  and  is  memorable  as 
the  place  where  Isabella  narrowly  escaped  capture 
by  hiding  in  a  thicket  of  bay  trees.  A  marble 
statue  of  her  now  graces  the  spot.  Saffron 
Banksia  roses  covered  a  space  of  sixty  feet  upon 
the  villa  front,  while  yellow  Niels  and  white 
roses  fairly  hid  one  wing. 

The  Alameda,  a  long  narrow  garden  with  at 
one  end  a  bronze  statue  of  Columbus  presenting 
his  plan  to  Isabella,  is  the  fashionable  rendezvous 
of  the  ladies  of  Granada,  who  pass  to  and  fro  in 
handsome  carriages  drawn  by  sleek  mules — the 
aristocratic  steeds  of  Spain.  Quite  out  of  the 
city  is  the  Cartuja,  a  suppressed  Carthusian 
monastery  now  held  by  the  Government.  There 
is  little  to  see.  Around  a  cloister  are  a  series  of 
hideous  pictures  of  cruelties  perpetrated  upon 
the  monks.  The  church  is  a  wild  chaos  of  rococo 
ornaments,  with  a  showy  high  altar,  and,  in  a 
rear  chapel,  a  costly  Ciborium  or  receptacle  for 
the  Eucharist,  of  cinnamon-colored  marble.  But 
worth  more  than  all  is  a  lovely  bust  in  marble 
of  St.  Bruno,  with  the  sweetest,  saddest  face 
imaginable.  In  the  sacristy  are  some  doors 
and  ten  great  chests  of  drawers,  a  beautiful  and 
curious  combination  of  tortoise-shell,  ivory  and 
ebony,  all  wrought  by  former  friars. 


SOME  GRANADAIN  FRAGMENTS.      87 

With  feelings  of  peculiar  interest  we  wended 
our  way  to  the  great  Grseco-Roman  Cathedral, 
the  first  we  had  seen  in  Spain.  But  we  were  dis- 
appointed. A  peculiarity  of  Spanish  Cathedrals 
is,  that  the  choir  is  walled  in  like  a  huge  box  in  the 
centre  of  the  nave,  which  prevents  the  grand  and 
impressive  sweep  and  vista  which  is  the  charm 
of  English  minsters  and  continental  interiors. 
The  lofty  ceiling,  the  tall,  classic  columns  and  the 
fine  gilded  dome  over  High  Altar  were  impress- 
ive. The  pictures  and  details  were  interesting, 
but  at  no  one  point  did  we  have  the  solemn,  awe- 
inspiring  and  spiritualizing  sweep  one  looks  for 
in  such  large  and  stately  structures.  The  royal 
chapel  adjoining  the  cathedral,  a  church  of  itself, 
was  the  magnet  which  had  drawn  us  thither.  In 
the  centre,  between  a  tall  superb  wrought-iron 
"  grille "  and  a  high  altar,  with  lofty  retablo 
with  exquisite  bas-reliefs  and  sculptured  effigies 
of  kings,  stand  side  by  side  the  huge  double 
mausoleums  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  and  their 
daughter  Joanna  (known  as  Crazy  Jane),  and  her 
husband  "  handsome  Philip  of  Burgundy."  They 
are  of  white  marble  exquisitely  and  elaborately 
sculptured  and  surmounted  by  recumbent  effigies 
of  the  four  royal  personages,  but  so  high  that  the 
faces,  which  are  said  to  be  fine,  cannot  be  seen. 


88  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

Close  to  the  iron  railing  which  surrounds  them, 
is  the  entrance  to  a  vault  below,  in  which  repose 
their  remains.  With  a  feeling  of  awe,  we  de- 
scended the  narrow  staircase  and  stood  in  a  low, 
round,  arched  apartment,  in  the  centre  of  which 
laid  two  coffins  of  lead,  bound  with  iron  bands, 
one  marked  I.  J.  with  a  crown,  the  other  F.  and 
a  crown,  which  contain,  without  question,  as  they 
have  "  never  been  disturbed  by  Goth  or  ghoul," 
the  mortal  remains  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 
The  coffins,  wider  at  head  than  at  foot,  and  with 
pitched  or  pointed  roofs,  look  rude  and  battered. 
Upon  one  side,  against  the  wall,  is  that  of  Philip 
of  Burgundy,  the  identical  one  which  his  de- 
mented wife  carried  everywhere  with  her  for 
forty-seven  years.  Upon  the  opposite  side  is  that 
of  Joanna,  and  at  her  feet  that  of  her  only  child. 
No  more  pathetic  story  is  there  in  Spanish  his- 
tory, than  this  of  an  unloved  woman's  insane 
loyalty  and  devotion.  Isabella  died  far  from 
Granada,  but  was  buried  here  by  her  own  request. 
So  reposes  the  noble  sovereign,  with  whom  our 
own  land  is  so  intimately  associated,  who,  as 
Lord  Bacon  says,  "  in  all  her  relations  of  queen 
or  woman,  was  an  honor  to  her  sex  and  the 
corner-stone  of  the  greatness  of  Spain." 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN. 

STILL  more  commonplace  and  utterly  devoid 
of  romance  or  sentiment  than  our  creeping  into 
the  Alhambra  enclosure  under  cover  of  darkness 
and  patter  of  rain,  utterly  oblivious  of  environ- 
ment, was  our  rattling  down  the  hill  and  through 
the  streets  of  the  ancient  city  in  a  close  vehicle 
in  the  gray  hours  of  very  early  morning,  en- 
veloped in  dense  mist  and  heavy  downpour. 

We  had  no  farewell  glimpse  of  ruddy  wall  or 
massive  tower  to  make  us  want  to  come  again. 
We  had  only  a  golden  memory ;  and  the  Alhambra 
might  as  well  have  been  a  hundred  miles  away, 
for  even  its  magic  name  seemed  a  myth.  It  was 
so  cold  and  dismal,  we  were  glad  when,  after 
seeing  every  piece  of  luggage  securely  wired  or 
bound  (because  of  recent  extensive,  unauthorized 
examination  and  reduction  along  the  way  not  in 
presence  of  owner\  we  moved  slowly  away  at  half- 
past  six  towards  pastures  new.  For  four  hours, 
when  we  reached  Bobadilla,  we  passed  over  the 

same  route  by  which  we  came  to  Granada.    Now, 

89 


90  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

Bobadiila  is  a  junction,  a  first-class  crossroads 
in  din  and  confusion,  with  a  large  restaurant, 
with  everything  cooked  in  oil.  The  least  said 
the  better.  The  journey  in  spite  of  clouds  and 
rain  was  a  beautiful  one,  for  the  mountains 
rose  on  every  side  and  the  views  of  country 
were  fine.  Between  Bobadilla  and  Seville,  a 
ride  of  some  five  hours,  the  scenery  was  very 
tame.  Sometimes  for  miles  we  would  scarcely 
see  a  tree  of  any  kind,  but  only  prairie  land  or 
gentle  billowy  hills  in  patches  of  all  shades,  from 
yellow  to  orange  and  russet,  made  by  the  fast 
ripening  corn  or  grain.  But  everywhere  was 
visible  the  highest  cultivation,  which  seemed 
wonderful,  in  view  of  the  very  primitive  character 
of  the  farming  implements  used.  At  times 
great  herds  of  cattle  or  goats,  horses  or  donkeys 
were  seen  upon  the  lonely  stretch,  in  care  of  an 
overseer,  often  the  only  signs  of  life  visible.  A 
little  after  four  o'clock,  almost  ten  hours  since 
we  turned  away  from  Granada,  across  the  plain 
of  living  green,  a  long  way  off,  we  caught  the 
gleam  of  numberless  clustered  roofs,  above  which 
possibly  rose  many  a  dome  or  tower,  but  we 
saw  only  the  massive,  stately,  unmistakable 
"Giralda."  Ere  long  we  were  in  the  midst  of 
pretty  villas,  lovely  gardens  and  thickets  of  dark 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  91 

trees  or  lustrous-leafed  shrubs,  and  between 
stone  walls  and  a  yellow,  muddy  river,  the  Gua- 
dalquivir of  our  school  days  (rather  more  musi- 
cal than  the  same  name  "  Big  River  '•  in  our  ver- 
nacular), and  then  a  dingy  railway  station,  and 
we  were  in  Seville,  "  the  oven  of  Spain."  The 
"  oven  "  was  only  warm,  but  within  the  week  of 
our  sojourn  it  became  at  times  uncomfortably 
heated.  The  usual  customs  examination  at  the 
station  over,  we  crowded  into  a  clumsy  "  'bus," 
and,  with  little  ceremony,  were  hurried  to  the 
Hotel  de  Madrid,  said  to  be  the  best  in  Spain. 
Built  around  a  large  open  court  or  "  patio  "  filled 
with  tall  palms  and  graceful  tropical  trees,  a 
jungle  of  creeping  plants  and  brilliant  flowers, 
with  a  central  fountain  and  a  honeysuckle- 
covered  trellis  like  a  great  Greek  cross  overhead, 
above  which,  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  an  awning 
was  drawn  entirely  across,  and  with  double 
galleries  overlooking,  with  pleasant  rooms  and 
unexceptionable  "  cuisine,"  it  was  altogether  the 
most  charming  and  delightful  hostelry  that 
sheltered  us  in  sunny  Spain.  Although  the  day 
was  far  spent,  waiting  until  another,  with  the 
famous  "  Giralda "  only  a  short  walk  away,  was 
not  to  be  thought  of,  especially  as  it  was  "with 
sunset  glow  "  we  had  been  charged  to  see  it. 


92  A  TllIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

The  walk  along  the  principal  street  of  little  shops, 
at  either  end  of  which  stone  posts  make  it  im- 
possible for  carriages  or  vehicles  to  enter,  and 
across  two  public  squares  and  narrow  streets 
with  many  a  little  bazaar  entirely  open  in  front, 
as  in  oriental  towns,  brilliant  with  golden  and 
gaudy  fabrics,  was  full  of  picturesque  interest 
and  fascination,  not  exactly  conducive  to  rapid 
progress.  The  sudden  termination  of  a  street 
brought  us  face  to  face  with  the  ugly,  forbidding 
wall  of  a  nondescript  structure,  pierced  with  an 
arched  gateway,  once  richly  sculptured,  but  now 
badly  dilapidated,  through  which  we  passed  at 
once  into  the  oft  quoted  "  Court  of  Oranges." 
How  pretty  and  poetic  it  sounds !  how  dainty 
and  ornate  it  looks  in  the  numerous  sketches 
and  pictures !  while  in  fact  it  is  only  a  great 
irregular  space,  with  many  medium-sized  orange 
trees  and  a  fountain  faced  by  open  cloisters  and 
portions  of  the  ancient  cathedral,  with  no  ex- 
pression save  that  of  utter  neglect  and  indiffer- 
ence, although  the  glimpses  of  rich  windows, 
heavy  piers  and  sculptured  ornaments  are  ex- 
tremely picturesque.  Compared  with  any  close, 
surrounding  an  English  Minster,  with  its  smooth 
lawn  and  venerable  trees,  its  solemn,  peaceful 
expression  which  seems  to  influence  and  prepare 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  93 

the  mind  to  worship  the  Lord  in  His  Holy  Tem- 
ple and  in  the  beauty  of  holiness,  this  great 
court,  which  might  be  made  as  beautiful,  looks 
little  better  than  a  play-ground  or  market-place. 
Against  the  cloister- wall  is  a  small  "  bird  nest  " 
pulpit  that  looks  very  innocent  with  its  white- 
ness intensified  by  the  burning  sun.  Yet,  from 
it  has  thundered  forth  much  to  incite  the  fearful 
"  autos  da  fe  "  not  far  distant,  by  which  thirty- 
four  thousand  souls  were  swept  from  earth  as  by 
a  baptism  of  fire.  Children  were  playing  beneath 
the  glossy  orange  trees,  beggars  were  lolling 
around  the  fountain,  cathedral  guides  were  watch- 
ing for  their  prey,  and  through  the  white  cloisters 
lounged  droll,  shabbily  costumed  figures,  a  pict- 
ure of  Spain  of  to-day.  Details,  however,  did  not 
impress  us  upon  that  first  memorable  visit,  for 
our  gaze  centred  upon  the  Giralda,  which  rose  so 
boldly  some  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  into  the 
air,  all  aflame  with  the  ruddy  light  and  golden 
glows  of  the  sunset  hour.  One  rarely  forms  un- 
consciously a  correct  ideal  of  any  structure  from 
pictures  and  representations.  This  ponderous 
and  majestic  tower,  at  first  glance,  seemed  so 
much  greater  and  more  massive  and  less  lofty 
than  we  had  pictured.  It  appeared  ponderous 
and  heavy  and  never  seemed  quite  tall  enough 


94  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

for  its  size.  Perhaps  we  were  too  near,  for  much 
of  this  passed  away  with  recurring  visits  and 
varied  points  of  vision,  till  it  stood  in  our  minds 
with  its  gigantic  stability,  its  Moorish  conceits, 
its  delicate  details  and  its  general  impressive 
dignity  as  indeed  the  finest  tower  in  the  world. 
Not,  however,  as  the  most  beautiful,  when  memory 
recalls,  in  its  jewel-like  beauty  and  soft  gleam- 
ing colors,  rising  high  into  the  blue  Italian 
sky,  that  wondrous  dream,  Giotto's  Campanile, 
beside  the  old  Florentine  Duomo,  above  the 
ancient  Tuscan  city.  Seen  above  the  orange 
trees,  stately,  imposing  and  lordly,  it  fairly  takes 
one's  breath  away  with  the  audaciousness  and 
fearlessness  of  its  design  and  construction.  It 
seems  the  base,  to  a  height  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet,  is  the  original  Moorish  Muezzin  tower,  built 
in  1196,  attached  to  the  mosque,  which  stood  upon 
the  site  of  the  present  Cathedral.  Alterations  and 
additions  in  various  centuries  have  carried  it  to 
a  height  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  These 
additions  rise  in  some  three  or  four  richly  orna- 
mented and  varied  storeys  with  a  lantern-tower, 
the  whole  crowned  finally  by  a  statue  of  Faith 
which  revolves  with  every  wind.  Perhaps  that 
is  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  word  "Gerar"  to 
revolve,  from  whence  comes  the  name  Giraldn, 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  95 

but  it  does  seem  incongruous  for  lAiiih  to  be 
turning  with  every  wind  and  wave  of  doctrine ! 
The  Muezzin  tower  is  of  a  pinkish  tint,  orna- 
mented with  lace-like  Moorish  designs  of  sunken 
work,  while  dark  tiles  in-  long  soft  lines  add  to 
the  mellow  glory  of  color,  and  the  modern  addi- 
tions are  rich  with  dainty  windows,  classic  bal- 
conies, curious  ornaments  of  iron  and  stone. 
Upon  the  corners  of  the  first  platform  is  a  queer 
conceit,  an  enormous  bell  of  stone,  surmounted 
by  open  globe-work  and  great  vase  of  lilies  in 
iron. 

The  ascent  is  most  interesting,  being  to  top  of 
the  Muezzin  tower,  by  thirty-four  zigzag  inclined 
planes,  so  gradual,  that  one  could  ride  upon  horse- 
back all  the  way.  Above,  marble  and  stone  and 
iron  staircases  lead  to  the  summit.  One  pauses 
often,  for  there  is  much  of  interest,  and  lifted 
so  high  in  air,  the  eye  catches  many  a  lovely 
outlook,  through  the  open-work  or  from  the 
pretty  balconies.  While  among  the  deafening 
bells,  some  special  peal  was  rung,  and  it  was  most 
exciting  and  thrilling  to  watch  the  men  hang- 
ing on  ropes  and  swinging  through  the  great 
arched  openings,  way  outside  of  the  tower  as  if 
performing  upon  a  trapeze.  Way  up  in  the  tower, 
in  wretched  little  rooms,  we  found  living  a  blind 


90  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

keeper,  who  stood  with  us,  and  turning  his  sight- 
less eyes,  pointed  out  the  interesting  features  of  the 
view  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  Fortunately 
one  of  the  party  understood  Spanish,  else  we  would 
have  lost  this  pathetic  illustration.  It  is  need- 
less to  add,  we  left  him  radiantly  happy  and  in- 
voking the  blessing  of  the  Virgin  and  all  the  saints 
upon  our  heretical  heads.  The  view  of  the  white 
city  far  below,  with  here  and  there  a  touch  of 
blue,  or  roof  of  pink,  and  over  the  surrounding 
verdant  plains  and  along  the  river's  course  is, 
in  the  morning  sunlight,  very  peaceful  and  beauti- 
ful. Every  New  Yorker  may  not  be  able,  at 
his  own  sweet  will,  to  bridge  the  distance  beween 
our  great  metropolis  and  sunny,  pretty,  far-away 
Seville  and  look  with  delighted  eyes  upon  this  won- 
derful architectural  fantasy,  but  whosoever  will 
may  pause  for  a  few  moments  on  the  southwest 
corner  of  Twenty-third  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue 
of  a  late  winter  day,  when  the  west  is  all  ablaze 
with  crimson  and  gold,  and,  looking  over  the  bare 
tree-tops  of  Madison  Square,  see  rising,  rich  with 
reflection  of  glows  and  sunset  hues,  against  a 
background  of  pale  blue  or  delicate  mother-of- 
pearl,  the  tower,  of  which  this  Moorish,  Spanish 
structure  is  the  prototype.  Understand,  it  is  not 
so  large  or  great, — in  one  sense  it  is  not  as  fine, — 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  97 

but  as  an  effect,  to  one  mind  at  least,  although  it 
may  be  heretical  to  say  it,  it  is  more  airy,  grace- 
ful and  beautiful,  and  in  its  way  quite  as  enjoy- 
able, as  that  which  is  the  glory  of  the  fair  city  be- 
yond the  sea.  Yet  I  have  stood  there  again  and 
again,  impressed  and  hushed  by  its  beauty,  in  the 
exquisite  atmospheric  conditions  of  the  hour,  and, 
although  an  intelligent  crowd  was  continually 
passing,  have  never  seen  an  eye  turned  toward  it 
in  appreciative  glance  nor  a  footstep  checked  to 
note  its  picturesque  and  beautiful  effect. 
7 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN. 

(Concluded.) 

THE  exterior  of  the  mighty  Cathedral  is  a  dis- 
appointment. Owing  to  a  great  mixture  of  style 
and  the  absence  of  the  pitched  roof  inseparably 
connected  with  the  name  cathedral,  it  is  very 
confusing.  Until  we  ascended  the  Giralda,  we 
could  not  grasp  1  he  ground  plan.  It  is  certainly 
very  picturesque,  but  no  other  or  marked  impres- 
sion is  made  upon  the  mind.  Here  and  there  are 
features  and  details  of  great  beauty,  but  there 
seems  no  one  point  whence  the  building,  as  a 
whole,  can  be  seen.  The  eastern  apsidal  end, 
with  its  roof  balustrades  and  piers,  makes  a  pretty 
and  attractive  picture.  With  the  chapter-house, 
chapel  and  other  attendant  buildings,  the  cathe- 
dral is  mounted  upon  a  platform  of  three  or  four 
steps,  with  great  pillars  from  ancient  Roman 
temples  standing  at  short  intervals.  It  occupies 
the  site  of  two  successive  mosques.  Many  an 
exquisite  sketch  can  be  made,  for  it  is  a  regular 

crazy  quilt  of  pretty  details  of  half  a  dozen  styles. 

.08 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  99 

But  over  the  entrance  portal  might  very  appro- 
priately be  written,  Who  enters  here  leaves  disap- 
pointment behind,  for  the  interior  satisfies  and 
overwhelms  with  the  grandeur  of  its  immensity, 
the  harmoniousness  of  its  design,  the  solemnity 
of  its  expression  and  the  sublimity  of  its  archi- 
tectural effects.  It  is  indeed  a  fulfilment  of  the 
declaration  of  a  Chapter  way  back  in  1401,  that 
it  would  build  a  church  "  so  large  that  coming 
ages  may  proclaim  us  mad  to  have  undertaken  it." 
Alas !  only  a  few  years  ago  an  earthquake  made 
sad  havoc  with  it,  utterly  demolishing  the  central 
tower,  or  lantern,  above  the  intersection  of  tran- 
sept and  nave,  which  in  its  fall  carried  or  weakened 
much  of  the  structure  adjoining,  so  that  now,  this, 
probably  the  most  grand  and  impressive  Gothic 
interior  in  the  world,  is  so  blocked  up  with  im- 
mense scaffoldings  and  huge  props,  as  scarcely 
to  be  seen  in  its  majesty  and  beauty.  But  that 
which  one  sees  is  indescribably  grand  and  awe- 
inspiring!  The  plain  columns,  clustered  around 
huge  piers,  rise  up  and  up,  in  unbroken  and  fault- 
less beauty,  while  the  continued  arches  soar  away 
into  space  with  illimitable  grace  and  charm. 
Seven  naves,  side  by  side,  spacious  transepts, 
thirty-seven  chapels,  rich  with  beautiful  sculptur- 
ings,  golden  altars,  jewels  and  silver  vessels,  with 


100  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

dim  religious  light  streaming  through  some  ninety- 
three  windows  of  some  of  the  richest  stained  glass 
known,  with  paintings  by  many  of  the  best 
Spanish  masters,  a  gorgeous  choir  and  at  the 
eastern  end  a  sumptuous  Royal  chapel,  represent 
its  most  attractive  features.  Only  a  glimpse, 
through  an  open  gate  in  the  high  board  fence 
around  the  scaffolding,  is  had  of  the  profusely 
ornamented  and  decorated  choir,  carved  stalls  and 
magnificent,  lofty,  wrought-iron  screen  or  gates. 
Even  the  pavement  of  black  and  white  marbles 
represents  an  outlay  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars !  And  the  dust  lies  thick  upon 
carvings,  ornaments  and  the  glorious  stained 
windows,  perhaps  to  large  degree  because  of  the 
repairs.  The  east  and  apsidal  end  forms  the 
Royal  Chapel,  a  magnificent  church,  built  to  re- 
ceive the  remains  of  royalty.  A  superb  iron 
screen  blocks  the  entrance ;  the  whole  interior  is 
overloaded  with  applied  ornaments,  and  upon 
either  side  in  niches  high  above  the  floor  are  seen 
the  royal  coffins,  now  covered  with  palls  of  cloth 
of  gold  with  embroidered  crests, — surmounted  by 
crown  and  sceptre.  One  is  said  to  contain  the 
dust  of  the  beautiful  "  Maria  de  Padilla,"  of  whom 
the  tourist  hears  more  or  less  in  Seville.  Before 
the  high  altar,  in  a  magnificent  casket  of  silver, 


Seville,  Cathedral  and  Giralda 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  101 

richly  wrought  in  statuettes  and  floriated  orna- 
ments, are  the  remains  of  St.  Ferdinand,  which, 
dressed  in  royal  paraphernalia,  are  shown  but 
three  times  a  year.  Back  of  it  was  an  ivory 
Virgin  and  child,  presented  by  St.  Louis  of  France 
and  carried  by  St.  Ferdinand  in  all  his  campaigns. 
The  sacristy  is  a  veritable  treasure-house,  for  in 
presses  are  some  two  hundred  priestly  vestments, 
exquisitely  embroidered  in  gold  and  colors,  in 
convents  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  cent- 
uries ;  arid  in  cases  are  statuettes  of  gold  and 
silver,  jewelled'  crosses  and  holy  vessels  flashing 
with  costly  gems,  and  the  celebrated  "  Custodia  " 
or  receptacle  for  the  Host,  a  tall  temple  of  solid 
and  deftly  wrought  silver.  At  one  end  hangs 
Pedro  Campana's  "  Deposition  from  the  Cross," 
before  which  Murillo  used  to  sit  for  hours  and  be- 
fore which  he  desired  to  be  buried.  It  is  related 
that  once — when  told  it  was  time  to  close — he  said : 
"  Oh !  wait  until  these  holy  men  get  Him  down." 
It  is  most  effectively  hung,  richly  framed  against 
a  marble  wall,  with  laurel  wreaths  and  palms. 
It  is  sombre  and  hard,  but  so  solemn  the  mind  is 
filled  with  awe.  The  loving,  caressing  careful- 
ness with  which  two  old  men  in  flowing  robes  of 
red  and  blue  lower  the  dead  helpless  body,  and  the 
tenderness  with  which  a  man  below  supports  the 


102  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

precious  burden  upon  his  shoulder  and  breast,  are 
most  pathetic. 

The  Chapter-house  is  another  superb  apart- 
ment, oval  in  shape,  and  with  a  lofty  dome,  all 
bewilderingly  decorated  in  "  plasteresque,"  or 
applied  ornament,  with  also  many  delicately 
carved  statuettes.  Some  lovely  heads  and  an 
Immaculate  Conception  by  Murillo  also  adorn  it. 
The  latter  differs  from  all  others  in  that  the  eyes 
are  turned  downwards.  Looking  at  it  and  several 
others  in  Seville,  one  feels  he  must  have  tried 
and  tried  to  paint  his  ideal  ere  he  produced  the 
matchless  one  that  graces  the  Louvre.  At  the 
west  end  of  the  grand  nave  lies,  in  the  pavement, 
a  sculptured  slab,  which  has  an  interest  for  the 
passing  American,  for  it  covers  the  burial-place 
of  Fernando,  the  second  son  of  Christopher 
Columbus,  who  bequeathed  his  library  to  the 
Cathedral  and  was  given  a  funeral  almost  equal 
to  a  King's.  In  the  Baptistery,  wretchedly 
lighted,  hangs  Murillo's  wonderful  "  St.  Anthony 
of  Padua."  It  is  immense  in  size  and  richly 
framed.  A  French  friar  at  our  side  truthfully 
remarked,  "  Nowhere  else  but  in  Spain  would  a 
picture  like  that  be  allowed  to  hang  in  such  a 
wretched  light."  It  was  from  this  canvas,  on 
the  night  of  November  4th,  1874,  that  the  entire 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  108 

grand  and  sublime  figure  of  the  kneeling  saint 
was  cut,  and  carried  off.  Great  was  the  conster- 
nation and  grief  among  the  people.  The  govern- 
ment at  once  notified  its  ministers  and  consuls 
all  over  the  world  of  the  cruel  loss.  The  picture 
was  finally  offered  in  New  York  to  William 
Schaus,  the  art-dealer,  who,  promptly  recognizing 
it,  purchased  it  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
and  presented  it  to  Seville.  It  is  so  beautifully 
inserted  that,  only  as  the  light  strikes  it  aslant, 
can  the  line  of  joining  be  detected.  The  saint, 
in  brown  Moorish  robes,  is  kneeling  in  his  cell. 
Above,  in  a  glory  of  cherubs  and  angels,  appears 
the  Infant  Christ.  A  doorway  reveals  a  cloister 
and  gives  the  only  light  save  the  reflected  glory 
of  the  vision  above.  The  reflection  of  light  upon 
the  monkish  robes  is  so  strange,  the  kneeling 
figure  in  its  forward  bend  so  full  of  eagerness 
and  earnestness,  the  outstretched  hands  so  full 
of  humility,  of  "  in  my  hands  no  price  I  bring," 
and  the  foot  so  beautiful,  that  like  many  of 
Murillo's  canvasses  it  forms  a  picture  by  itself,  a 
fact  recognized  by  the  contemptible  thief.  But 
oh  !  the  soft  radiant  glory  of  the  heavenly  vision  ! 
The  luminous  golden  atmosphere,  the  cloud  of 
witnesses,  floating  and  circling  around  like  the 
multitude  of  swallows  about  the  Giralda,  some 


104  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

well-nigh  lost  in  clouds,  others  in  gleesoine, 
childish  embrace,  and  moving  incessantly  up  and 
down  the  golden  way  !  In  the  centre  stands  the 
Infant  Christ  with  outstretched  hands,  plump 
limbs,  and  gentle,  loving  face.  It  is  only  that  of 
a  pure,  lovely,  fair-haired  child,  exquisite  in  color- 
ing, yet  it  seems  imbued  with  loving  sense  of  the 
joy  it  is  bestowing.  Somehow  in  the  stillness  of 
that  darkened,  dingy,  shadowed  chapel  in  far- 
away Spain,  we  seemed  to  hear,  as  we  gazed  long 
and  well  at  it,  the  hymn  we  so  often  sing  at  home, 

''  Fairer  is  He  than  all  the  fair, 
That  leads  the  heavenly  train." 

The  story  is  simply  and  effectively  told.  The 
figure  of  the  Saint  is  eloquence  itself,  and  the 
intense  yearning  in  eyes,  lips  and  even  chin,  as 
he  catches  a  glimpse  of  the  Saviour's  face, 
appeals  tenderly  to  the  thoughtful  observer,  for 
who  has  not  at  some  time  felt  it  as  he  has  medi- 
tated upon  the  Adorable  Redeemer? 

In  another  chapel  hangs  Murillo's  "  Guardian 
Angel,"  in  which  a  graceful  figure,  in  dull  yellow 
robes,  and  with  outstretched  white  wings,  is  lead- 
ing a  little  child  by  one  hand  and  pointing  to  the 
opening  sky  with  the  other.  The  lovely  little 
face  of  the  child  is  turned  confidently  upward, 


THE  OVEN  OF  SPAIN.  105 

the  expression  serious  but  very  sweet.  It  is  a 
dear  little  figure,  fresh,  innocent  and  beautiful, 
with  lovely  eyes  and  single  gossamer  white 
garment  revealing  the  little  plump  figure,  and 
exposing  one  shoulder.  The  charm  of  the  pict- 
ure is  the  little  child,  and  the  lesson  of  the 
trustful  accepting  face  seems  expressed  in  the 
"  Except  ye  become  as  little  children  ye  shall  not 
enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

In  the  dim  light  of  almost  every  chapel  hangs 
some  picture  which  would  interest  an  art  student 
or  connoisseur,  and  in  every  nook  and  corner 
there  is  something  curious  or  of  intrinsic  merit. 
To  see  in  one  sweeping  view  this  stupendous 
interior,  when  cleared  of  scaffolding  and  ugly 
supporting  beams,  would  alone  be  worth  the 
weary  journey  across  the  sea. 


CAESAR  AND  PILATE. 

OFTEN  as  we  wandered  spellbound  through  the 
halls,  or  loitered  half-dazed  in  the  courts  of 
the  Alhambra  and  looked  at  the  mellow,  cream- 
colored  walls,  we  wondered  what  the  effect  must 
have  been,  when  all  the  exquisite  incised  traceries 
were  picked  out  with  gold  or  laid  in  with  gor- 
geous colors.  The  question  was  as  near  an- 
swered as  it  can  well  be,  when  we  visited  the 
ancient  State  apartments  of  the  "  Alcazar,"  the 
remains  of  the  old  Moorish  Royal  Palace  at 
Seville.  Probably  the  beautiful  restorations  do 
not  equal  the  original  combinations,  but  the 
effect  is  unique  and  gorgeous  in  the  extreme. 
Way  back  in  1181  a  palace  was  built,  which  was 
•added  to  at  intervals,  in  different  styles,  until  it 
covered, with  its  courts  and  buildings,  an  immense 
tract  of  land.  Some  of  these  additions  have  been 
destroyed,  and  some  fifty  years  ago  the  Moorish 
or  ancient  portion — the  walls  of  which,  like  the 
Alhambra,  were  covered  with  thick  whitewash — 

was  restored  by  the  Duke  of  Montpensier  at  an 
10G 


AND  PILATE.  107 

expense  of  fifty  thousand  dollars.  It  was  for  a 
time  the  residence  of  the  Duke  who  married  the 
only  sister  of  Queen  Isabella,  and  is  now  fre- 
quently occupied  by  the  ex-Queen.  The  private 
rooms  upon  the  second  floor  are  rarely  shown. 
But  the  great  patio  or  court,  the  lovely  corridors, 
spacious  halls  and  beautiful  rooms  upon  the 
ground  floor  which  constitute  the  ancient  Moorish 
portion, the  most  interesting  part,  is  freely  opened. 
The  original  ornamentation  of  walls,  all  richly 
gilded  and  colored,  the  ancient  mosaics  and  the 
superb  tilings  make  them  a  dream  of  the  Arabian 
Nights,  a  scene  of  sensuous  coloring  and  enchant- 
ing beauty.  Gold,  red  and  blue  predominate. 
Through  a  superb  gateway  we  entered  a  large 
open  court,  with  clustered  marble  columns  and 
boldly  decorated  spandrels  and  arches.  The 
ceilings  of  the  arcades  and  the  doors  also  were 
of  intricate  geometrical  designs,  richly  inlaid 
and  gilded,  while  the  dados  v/ere  of  exquisite 
mosaic-like  tiles,  in  many  places  iridescent  in 
tint  and  hue.  The  rooms  seemed  the  more  im- 
pressive, because  the  superb  stucco  and  colored 
decorations  were  confined  to  a  wide  frieze,  or  the 
spandrels,  the  open  spaces  being  left  for  tapes- 
tries. One  long  room,  which,  with  alcoves,  was 
the  length  of  the  court,  had  a  superb  and  heavy 


108  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

panelled  ceiling  with  great  bosses  and  heads,  all 
of  cedar  from  far-away  Lebanon.  In  this  lordly, 
sombre  hall  St.  Ferdinand — he  who  conquered 
Seville — breathed  his  last.  "NVe  passed  through 
several  rooms,  with  arches  and  exquisite-colored 
ceilings,  restored  by  ex-Queen  Isabella  ere  she 
was  driven  from  the  throne.  From  a  window  in 
a  corner  room,  in  which  several  of  the  Mont- 
pensiers  first  saw  the  light,  we  looked  out  upon 
a  lovely  decorated  court  and  a  charming  vista  of 
six  rooms,  a  shower  of  red  and  blue  and  gold, 
into  the  glorious  Hall  of  Ambassadors.  This, 
although  not  as  spacious  or  imposing  as  that 
of  the  Alhambra,  being  gilded,  ornamented  and 
colored  to  the  last  degree,  is  simply  magnificent. 
Back  of  it  is  a  Royal  banqueting  hall  with  fine 
vaulted  ceiling  of  dark  wood.  The  vista  or  view 
from  another  corner  room,  through  Moorish 
arches  of  soft  coloring,  across  the  Hall  of  Ambas- 
sadors and  out  into  the  sunlit  arches  in  court, 
with  columns  and  windows  beyond,  is  superb. 
The  gorgeousness  and  magnificence  culminate 
in  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors,  a  square  apartment 
with  lofty  cupola  or  dome  with  curious  geomet- 
rically lined  ceiling.  Upon  three  sides,  single 
arched  openings  reveal  the  gorgeous  and  unique 
intei'iors  of  adjoining  rooms,  while  the  other 


CAESAR  AND  PILATE.  10!) 

shows  the  spacious  and  magnificent  court.  The 
side  walls  are  an  unbroken  stretch  of  exquisite 
repeated  designs  in  richest  gold  and  most  brilliant 
colors.  High  upon  the  walls  are  small  balconies 
with  rich  brass  griffin  heads  for  supports — out 
of  keeping  perhaps  with  the  rest,  but  a  very  effec- 
tive innovation.  Dainty  little  chandeliers  hang 
from  them,  while  from  the  central  dome  is  pen- 
dant a  very  curious  brass  and  crystal  Moorish 
chandelier.  Another  innovation  is  a  frieze  of 
arches,  with  portraits  of  the  kings  of  Spain.  In 
the  four  upper  corners,  great  masses,  or  stalac- 
tites, or  honeycomb  work,  richly  gilded,  shape  the 
square  ceiling  to  receive  the  circular  dome.  In 
this  room — they  tell  you  as  you  stand  fairly  in- 
toxicated with  the  beauty  and  color — Charles  V. 
was  married,  and  the  brother  of  Dom  Pedro  the 
Cruel,  invited  ostensibly  to  witness  the  tourna- 
ments, was  foully  murdered.  It  is  such  a  vision 
of  grace  and  color,  the  whole  expression  is  so 
sweet  and  peaceful,  so  utterly  removed  from  wars 
and  rumors  of  war  of  the  outside  world,  that  it  is 
extremely  difficult  to  believe  such  scenes  were  ever 
enacted  within  its  glorious  embrace.  Beyond  is 
the  tiny  court  of  the  Dolls,  with  three  storeys  of 
delicate  and  airy  marble  columns  and  arches  and 
a  central  pretty  fountain,  the  second  storey  being 


110  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

filled  with  a  succession  of  latticed  windows,  and 
the  one  above  forming  a  lovely  corridor  with 
open  arches,  balustrades  and  brilliantly  colored 
roofs.  In  a  long  hall  or  dormitory,  it  seemed 
very  strange  to  be  told  that  the  paved  floor  we 
were  treading  was  the  original  of  nine  hundred 
years  ago,  and  then,  in  the  mosaic  dado,  to  note 
an  electric  button !  So  the  past  and  present  jog 
one  another,  even  here  in  lovely  Spain.  The 
dados  of  antique  tiles  and  mosaics,  the  richly 
carved  and  gilded  doors,  some  nine  hundred  and 
some  only  fifty  years  old,  the  embellishment  of 
arches  and  side  walls,  and  the  glorious  wealth  of 
color,  daze  and  confuse  with  their  wonderful  com- 
bination of  grace,  strength  and  beauty. 

From  these  enchanted  halls  we  turned  and 
entered  the  ample  gardens  and  pleasure-grounds 
attached  to,  and  mostly  enclosed  by,  the  extensive 
pile.  It  was  a  fairy  scene!  At  first  we  loitered 
upon  an  elevated  terrace  with  large  square  pool 
and  seats,  overlooking  the  gardens,  acres  in  ex- 
tent, enclosed  by  buildings  or  by  walls  simulating 
fa9ades.  The  air  was  heavy  with  perfume  of 
myrtle  and  orange.  While  the  gardens  below 
were  level  and  laid  out  in  stiff,  angular  lines  with 
box  borders,  cypress,  orange  and  many  flowering 
trees,  they  were  so  verdant  and  peaceful  that 


CJESAR  AND  PILATE.  HI 

they  formed  a  lovely  picture.  Yet,  just  over  the 
walls  were  the  dusty  city  streets  that  seemed 
removed  miles  away.  A  staircase  with  wrought- 
iron  railings  draped  and  garlanded  with  lovely, 
tiny,  cluster  pink  roses  led  to  the  garden  below. 
From  thence  we  turned  into  the  palace  to  see  the 
bath  of  the  fair  Maria  de  Padilla,  the  morganatic 
and  beautiful  wife  of  Dom  Pedro  the  Cruel.  It 
was  a  long  vaulted  apartment  with  an  immense 
tank,  and  originally  was  open  to  the  sky.  The 
king  and  gentlemen  of  the  court  were  accus- 
tomed to  gather  and  look  down  upon  the  fair 
creature,  and  it  was  considered  very  gallant  to 
drink  of  the  water  of  her  bath  !  It  is  said  a 
courtier  did  not  partake  one  day,  and,  when  asked 
the  reason,  replied  he  "did  not  care  for  the  sauce 
unless  he  could  have  some  of  the  partridge  !  " 
We  were  just  a  week  too  late  for  the  exuberant 
and  riotous  exhibit  of  roses.  Their  glory  had 
departed;  but  numerous  small  flowers  and  shrubs, 
such  as  pomegranate  and  syringas,  were  in  pro- 
fuse bloom.  Numerous  fountains  and  droll  water- 
jets,  a  beautiful  tea-house,  faced  within  and  with- 
out with  exquisite  embossed  tiles,  and  a  pretty 
marble  fish  pond,  statuettes  and  vases  adorn  the 
modern  gardens,  which  are  separated  from  those 
of  Charles  V.  by  a  tall  iron  fence.  The  soft 


112  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

swaying  of  immense  date  palms,  the  cool  shadows 
of  evergreen  and  tropical  trees,  and  the  delicious 
odors  of  countless  flowers  quieted  "  the  restless 
pulse  of  care,"  and  made  our  visit  a  delightful 

one. 

***** 

Of  a  very  different  character  from  the  Alcazar, 
but  equally  interesting  in  its  way,  is  the  House 
of  Pilate,  one  of  the  most  unique  sights  of  Seville. 
It  is  so  called,  because,  in  plan,  it  is  a  reproduc- 
tion of  the  House  of  Pilate  in  Jerusalem.  Built 
in  the  fifteenth  century,  for  a  private  residence, 
it  has  been  the  centre  of  much  brilliant  artistic, 
literary  and  social  life ;  has  been  well  cared  for 
through  the  ages,  so  that  now,  although  unoc- 
cupied, it  is  most  beautiful  and  attractive.  It  is 
the  property  of  the  Duke  de  Medina  Celi  (who  he 
is,  this  deponent  saith  not),  who  rarely,  if  ever, 
visits  it.  So  much  the  better  probably  for  the 
travelling  public.  It  is  a  fine  oriental  or  Moorish 
house,  with  a  large  square  patio  or  court,  sur- 
rounded by  an  arcade  with  marble  columns  and 
spandrels,  completely  covered  with  beautiful 
Moorish  designs  in  stucco,  and  along  the  cor- 
ridors, rich  tall  dados  of  embossed  tiles.  In  every 
corner  of  the  court  is  a  fine  colossal,  marble 
statue,  which  were  added  by  the  Duke  who  com- 


OvESAR  AND  PILATE.  113 

pleted  the  structure  at  the  end  of  ninety  years, 
having  brought  them  from  Italy,  where  he  lived 
as  a  viceroy  of  Naples.  The  upper  gallery  over- 
looking the  court  has  a  Gothic  balustrade.  The 
sunny  court  is  lovely  with,  on  one  side,  the  Prse- 
toriuni,  a  long  fine  hall  with  coffered  ceiling  of 
dark  woods  and  superb,  tall  tile  dados ;  upon 
another  a  small  chapel  with  replica  of  the  marble 
columns  in  St.  Prassede  in  Rome,  "  the  traditional 
pillar  at  which  Christ  was  scourged,"  presented 
by  Pius  V.  Upon  still  another  is  a  large  square 
room,  with  the  same  superb  tiling  and  flat  wooden 
roof,  in  which  stands  a  copy  of  the  table  upon 
which  the  money  was  laid  by  Judas.  A  wide  and 
fine  staircase  of  stone,  with  side  walls  of  solid  til- 
ings and  richly  panelled  and  carved  ceiling  of 
dark  wood,  leads  to  the  upper  colonnade  and  out 
upon  a  flat  roof,  one  portion  of  which  overlooks 
the  open  plaza  which  we  crossed  upon  entering, 
which  duplicates  the  place  where  our  Saviour 
was  shown  to  the  people.  High  upon  the  walls 
of  the  buildings  forming  one  side  of  this  square, 
blazed  a  mass  of  the  magenta-purple  blossoms  of 
an  immense  "Bougain-villa,"  a  most  gorgeous 
floral  display.  Although  clinging  to  and  covering 
the  walls  to  a  height  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  it 

threw  out  great  branches  eight  and  ten  feet  in 
8 


114  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

length,  which  were  a  solid  mass  of  flowers,  wav- 
ing to  and  fro  like  great  silken  balloons  of  Tyrian 
hue. 

With  the  suggestive  names  and  objects  on 
every  side  filling  our  thoughts  with  and  recalling 
vividly  the  incidents  of  the  tragic  story  of  eight- 
een hundred  years  ago,  what  wonder  was  it  that, 
for  the  nonce,  pretty  Seville  quite  faded  from  our 
minds  and  we,  in  imagination  and  feeling,  were 
in  far-away  Jerusalem,  the  Holy  City,  and  when 
we  stood  in  this  place,  and  heard  the  words  "  here 
lie  was  shown  to  the  people,"  and  this  great 
flowering  drapery  of  regal  purple,  swayed  grace- 
fully before  us,  that  we  recalled,  reverently  and 
tenderly,  the  words,  as  written  by  the  disciple 
whom  Jesus  loved,  "  and  they  put  on  Him  a 
purple  robe."  And  Pilate  saith  unto  them,  "  Be- 
hold I  bring  Him  forth  to  you," — "  then  came 
Jesus  fortl),  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns  and  the 
purple  robe." 


HERE  AND  THERE  IX  SEVILLE. 

THE  conscientious  and  thoughtful  sight-seer 
who  allots  only  a  week  to  Seville  has  a  busy  time 
of  it.  Not  that  the  so-called  sights  are  so  nu- 
merous, but  that  there  are  so  many  things  one 
wants  to  see  again  and  again,  to  have  them  clearly 
and  indelibly  impressed  upon  the  memory. 

The  cathedral  alone  could  absorb  that  period, 
for  although  there  is  no  place  from  whence  the 
grand  and  mighty  structure  can  be  viewed  as  an 
impressive  whole,  there  is  many  a  glimpse  of 
window,  buttress,  turret  or  balustrade,  or  of  all 
combined,  that  is  exquisite  and  long  to  be  remem- 
bered. If  the  interior  was  only  free  from  scaf- 
foldings and  supporting  beams,  a  week  would  be 
all  too  brief  to  fully  enjoy  its  varied  and  interest- 
ing artistic  and  architectural  features.  And 
then  the  pictures  within  cathedral  and  gallery ! 
Well !  you  will  never  be  quite  ready  to  turn  away 
from  them ! 

Altogether,  Seville  was  the  most  delightful  and 

spirited  city  we  saw  in  Spain,  being  characteristic 

115 


111!  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPA1X. 

and  full  of  life,  and  while  not  as  picturesque  as 
some  other  places  where  quaint  and  ruined  struct- 
ures abound,  yet  it  possesses  some  features  of 
interest  in  greater  perfection  and  abundance. 
Madrid  is  French ;  Seville  is  Spanish !  In  no 
other  place  in  Spain  are  seen  so  many  superior 
houses  with  the  beautiful  semi- Moorish  patios,  or 
open  courts,  a  most  attractive  and  typical  pecul- 
iarity, which  makes  even  a  listless  stroll  a  suc- 
cession of  tasteful  pictures.  A  passage  like  a 
porte-cochere  opens,  in  the  front  facade  in  line 
with  the  street,  directly  to  a  central  court,  the 
end  of  the  way  being  most  ornamentally  barred 
by  tall  wrought-iron  grilles  or  gates.  As  you 
pass  along,  many  a  charming  glimpse  is  had  of 
sunny  court  and  cozy  enclosure.  Some  have 
arcades  and  colonnades  of  marble,  with  busts, 
Hermes,  vases  or  statues :  others  have  chairs, 
sofas  and  tables  like  a  drawing-room,  and  all  have 
a  central  fountain.  Again,  some  have  tall  waving 
palms,  and  feathery  tropical  trees  and  a  wealth 
of  flowers.  It  seemed  tons,  from  these  glimpses, 
that  there  were  more  rocking-chairs  in  Seville 
than  in  all  the  rest  of  continental  Europe! 

One  looks  with  interest  at  the  yellow  and 
muddy  Guadalquivir,  although  its  shores  bear 
little  trace  of  its  former  commercial  importance, 


HERE  AND  THERE  IN  SEVILLE.  117 

or  suggestion  of  what  it  might  again  become 
with  a  little  public  spirit  and  enterprise.  The 
Torre  del  Oro, — the  Tower  of  Gold, — which  is  so 
pretty  in  the  story  of  Seville,  and  such  an  attrac- 
tive feature  in  the  pictures,  is,  in  these  later  days, 
a  very  commonplace  affair.  Originally  a  corner 
tower  in  the  line  of  Alcazar  walls  or  fortifications 
which  now  are  swept  away,  it  stands  upon  the 
river  bank  in  isolated  picturesqueness  and  for- 
lornity.  The  golden  tiles  have  disappeared. 
Warm  orange  yellow  wash  keeps  alive  the  name, 
and  at  sunset  absorbs  a  brilliant  and  ruddy  hue. 
From  an  important  position  of  defence  it  has  run 
the  gamut  of  a  place  for  prisoners  of  state,  the 
treasure-house  of  kings,  the  strong  box  where 
the  precious  gold  brought  by  Columbus  was  de- 
posited, until  now,  in  its  hoary  age,  it  shelters  the 
offices  of  a  common  river  steamboat  company. 
As  one  drives  along  the  city  streets,  in  an  en- 
closure with  tall  iron  fence  is  seen  an  imposing 
building  over  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  length, 
built  at  an  expense  of  over  a  million  and  a  half 
dollars,  which  he  is  told,  to  his  surprise  (as  it 
suggests  almost  every  other  use),  is  the  govern- 
ment Tobacco  and  Snuff  Factory.  Some  six 
thousand  persons  are  here  employed.  It  is  one 
of  the  sights  of  Seville,  but  fellow-travellers  re- 


118  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

ported  the  odors  so  oppressive  and  nauseating 
in  that  hot  weather  that  we  contented  ourselves 
with  the  view  from  breezy  carriage  seats.  The 
Palace  of  San  Telino,  or  St.  Elmo,  built  close 
upon  the  public  promenade,  but  with  surround- 
ing and  background  of  lovely  gardens — the  home 
of  the  Montpensiers — is  by  far  the  mostsumptuous 
and  prosperous-looking  structure  in  the  city, 
although  it  has  more  of  the  appearance  of  an 
institution  or  barrack  than  a  royal  abode.  This, 
however,  is  easily  explained,  for  it  was  built 
originally  for,  and  used  as,  a  naval  school.  After 
the  revolution  of  1848,  it  was  presented  by  ex- 
Queen  Isabella  to  her  sister — the  Duchess  of  Mont- 
pensier,  wife  of  a  son  of  Louis  Phillippe.  More 
fortunate  than  the  Queen,  who  for  many  years 
has  lived  an  exile  in  France,  the  Duchess,  now  a 
widow,  still  resides  in  the  palace,  beloved  by  the 
people  for  her  many  beneficent  acts  and  held  in 
high  esteem  because  of  her  magnificent  gift  to  the 
municipality.  (Died  in  1897,  since  this  was 
written.)  We  were  escorted  through  a  long  suite 
of  rooms  on  the  ground  floor  which  stretched  one- 
half  of  the  way  around  the  Palace,  all  with  a  cozy, 
livable  look  quite  unusual  in  such  apartments. 
One  long,  spacious  palatial  "salon,"  with  walls 
hung  with  paintings  and  portraits,  and  furnished 


HERE  AND  THERE  IN  SEVILLE.  119 

with  superb  cabinets,  vases  and  grand  pianos, 
alone  appeared  as  if  not  in  daily  use.  Pretty 
corridors,  lovely  drawing-rooms  with  choice  bric- 
a-brac,  portraits  and  cozy  groups  of  furniture, 
cheery  bedrooms  with  superb  hangings  and  drap- 
eries of  satin  and  a  multitude  of  portrait  photo- 
graphs, give  the  personal  and  characteristic  ap- 
pearance and  expression  of  a  home.  From  there 
we  passed  out  upon  a  broad  terrace  with  dark- 
blue,  glossy  china  vases  upon  every  post,  which 
looked  upon  the  indescribably  beautiful  gardens, 
with  superb  palms,  enormous  cedars,  yucca  trees 
and  embowered  walks  in  every  direction.  Com- 
ing from  the  public  thoroughfare  and  the  rich 
palace  apartments,  at  once  into  this  fresh  and 
verdant  expanse, — this  atmosphere  of  peace, — with 
the  cool,  restful  suggestion  of  every  characteristic, 
was  simply  enchanting.  Great  mounds  and 
patches  of  ivy,  flowers  without  number,  blossom- 
ing trees,  pretty  paths  winding  through  great 
banks  and  bowers,  and  lovely  little  changing 
pictures,  formed  by  the  rich  and  varied  tropical 
groups,  were  revealed  with  every  movement. 
Presently,  from  somewhere  or  nowhere — for  it 
was  like  magic — an  overseer  or  gamekeeper  met 
us.  It  was  exquisitely  droll,  for  with  his  short 
jacket  of  tan-colored  cloth  ornamented  on  the 


12Q  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

back  with  a  great  arabesque  of  black  applique 
cloth,  short  pantaloons  trimmed  with  wide  band 
of  red,  a  profusion  of  buttons  and  a  fringe  of 
leather,  a  large  sombrero  hat,  and  a  gun,  his  ap- 
pearance suggested  one  of  the  attaches  of  "  Buffalo 
Bill."  But  he  was  very  obliging  and  civilly  took 
us  all  over  the  grounds  (and  they  are  of  immense 
extent),  past  orange  orchards,  through  large  tracts 
or  patches  of  flowers  of  every  kind  and  to  many 
a  cozy  and  attractive  nook.  With  evident  pride 
and  the  supposition  that  we  had  never  seen  any- 
thing so  remarkable,  he  conducted  us  to  the  elec- 
trical house  and  showed  us  the  dynamo.  Near 
this  building  was  an  ivy-clad  tower,  upon  the  crest 
of  which  was  a  stork's  nest,  recalling  the  Spanish 
poet's — 

" — Sailing  low 

The  broadwinged  stork  on  the  church  tower  top 

His  consecrated  nest." 

Father  Stork  was  standing  grimly  and  quietly 
upon  one  leg  evidently  keeping  watch  and  ward, 
while  Mammy  Stork  sat  upon  the  old  home  nest. 
Pater  and  Mater  familias  come  there  every  even- 
ing to  visit  them,  and  in  June  they  all  go  away 
and  do  not  return  until  February.  The  keeper 
said  that  the  pair  we  saw  had  come  there  regu- 
larly for  eight  or  ten  years.  Perched  high  in  air, 


The  Alcazar  Gardens,  Seville. 


HERE  AND  THERE  IN  SEVILLE.  121 

so  still  and  motionless,  they  present  a  most  droll 
but  weird  and  mystical  appearance. 

The  lovely  gardens  and  park  were,  until  lately, 
upward  of  two  miles  in  extent ;  but  the  Duchess 
has  munificently  presented  a  good  one-half  of 
them  to  the  city  for  a  pleasure-ground,  and  a 
wide  street  has  been  opened  through,  and  a  costly 
fence  of  stone  and  iron  erected,  and  now  the  peo- 
ple have  a  lovely  resort,  while  the  Lady  Bounti- 
ful still  possesses  a  princely  and  magnificent  do- 
main. Just  beyond  stretches  out  the  "  Delicias," 
a  long,  spacious  and  imposing  avenue  following 
the  course  of  the  Guadalquivir  for  two  miles  or 
more,  with  frequent  public  gardens  and  private 
grounds  crowded  with  trees,  shrubs  and  countless 
brilliant  flowers.  It  is  the  Central  Park,  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne,  of  Seville,  and  the  carriages  with 
gayly  attired  ladies  passing  up  and  down  make, 
upon  a  pleasant  late  afternoon,  an  exceedingly 
animated  and  brilliant  scene. 

Expecting  to  see  some  ware  purely  Spanish,  we 
drove  out  to  the  porcelain  works  established 
by  the  Messrs.  Pickman,  an  English  family,  who 
now,  after  two  generations  upon  the  soil,  carry 
the  title  of  Marquis  and  are  full-fledged  Span- 
iards. The  works  occupy  an  old  Cartuja  convent 
in  the  suburbs,  and  might  be  very  picturesque 


122  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

with  a,  little  trouble.  But,  regardless  of  effect, 
rude  modern  buildings  are  huddled  against  and 
around  an  old  chapel  or  hall,  with  open  roof  and 
rose  window.  Two  or  three  rooms  have  beauti- 
ful marqueterie  ceilings  and  doors,  and  a  fine 
apartment  is  finished  with  specimens  of  the  dec- 
orated work.  The  whole  process  from  unmixed 
clay  to  the  finish  is  seen,  but  not  as  pleasantly  as 
at  Meissen,  Derby  or  Sevres.  A  great  deal  of 
common  domestic  ware  is  made,  and  we  saw 
nothing  but  that  which  could  be  purchased  at 
almost  any  metropolitan  emporium.  In  good 
order  is  a  small  chapel  full  of  gilded  carving, 
pictures  and  ecclesiastical  paraphernalia  and  with 
superb  choir  stalls  taken,  we  were  told,  from  the 
chapel  now  incorporated  in  the  works.  A  pleas- 
ant drive  from  the  city,  is  a  ruined  amphitheatre 
and  other  remains,  all  that  is  left  of  the  Roman 
"Italica,"  a  city  founded  five  hundred  or  more 
years  before  Christ,  which  was  "the  birthplace 
of  three  Roman  Emperors,  Trajan,  Adrian  and 
Theodosius."  When  wearied  with  the  regular 
sight-seeing  there  was  always  endless  entertain- 
ment in  wandering  through  the  narrow,  crooked 
streets,  with  the  gayest  white  houses  dotted  with 
green  balconies  and  blinds,  and  from  upper  storeys 
the  pretty  "  miradores,"  or  balconies,  so  enclosed 


HERE  AND  THERE  IN  SEVILLE.  123 

in  glass  as  to  appear  like  oriel  windows,  and 
through  those  lined  by  the  little  shops.  Except- 
ing an  occasional  lace  "  mantilla  "  gracefully  worn 
over  the  head  and  some  provincial  dresses  in  the 
crowd  on  Corpus  Christi,  we  saw  nothing  there 
in  costume  that  was  characteristic  or  national. 

A  Spanish  poet  says  of  Seville,  "  Of  all  the 
Spanish  towns,  is  none  more  pretty,"  which  voiced 
our  sentiments  as  we  turned  reluctantly  away. 
Conscientiously  we  had  seen  everything,  remem- 
hering  the  old  and  quaint  Spanish  proverb, 
"  Knowing  something  does  not  take  up  any 
room.': 


CORPUS  CIIRTSTI  ^r  SEVILLE. 

IF  there  is  any  one  thing  more  than  another 
for  which  the  average  man,  woman  or  child  will 
suffer,  uncomplainingly,  inconvenience,  depriva- 
tion or  utter  fatigue  of  body  and  soul,  it  is  a  show, 
a  spectacle,  and  especially  a  procession.  The 
small  boy,  in  face  of  certain  penalty,  will  play 
truant  that  he  may  see  the  tawdry,  meaningless 
circus  come  to  town,  while  the  boy  of  larger 
growth  will  pay  a  fabulous  price  for  a  balcony  or 
window  which  may  command  a  view  of  some  pass- 
ing pageant.  It  matters  little  whether  it  be  a 
detachment  of  the  Salvation  Army  with  the  in- 
evitable musical  accompaniment,  the  noisy  pa- 
rade and  senseless  demonstration  of  a  political 
campaign,  or  the  sightly  mass  or  beautiful  tramp 
of  a  military  organization,  the  crowd,  big  and 
little,  are  sure  to  be  there.  The  European  tourist 
counts  much  upon  witnessing  the  civic,  military 
and  ecclesiastical  displays.  Our  experience  was, 

that  with  the  exception  of  the  Grand  Army  Ile- 
124 


CORPUS  CIIRISTI  IN  SEVILLE.  125 

views  and  the  great  feast-day  celebrations  in 
St.  Peter's  in  Rome,  the  spectacular  displays,  and 
especially  the  street  processions,  were  generally 
incongruous,  meretricious  and  vulgar.  Yet  ex- 
quisite etchings  and  brilliant  canvas  pictures 
can  be  drawn  from  them ;  for  color  and  form,  and 
not  material,  compose  and  are  portrayed  in  them. 
We  counted  ourselves  fortunate  in  being  in 
Seville  at  the  feast  of  Corpus  Christi,  for  not  only 
a  characteristic  pageant  was  to  be  seen  in  the  nar- 
row streets,  decorations  and  procession,  but  one 
unique  feature — not  met  with  elsewhere  in  the 
broad  world,  quite  worth  a  journey  to  see — the 
dancing  before  the  Host  in  the  Sagrario,  or  parish 
church,  connected  with  the  cathedral.  For  sev- 
eral days  we  had  seen  extensive  preparations  mak- 
ing, both  at  Seville  and  Granada,  such  as  the 
erection  along  the  streets  and  in  the  open  plazas, 
of  arches  of  imitation  stone  work,  and  also  of 
evergreens  and  flowers,  the  raising  of  flag-staffs, 
and  the  setting  of  gayly  painted  masts  at  short 
distances,  to  uphold,  on  the  line  of  the  roofs,  plain 
and  colored  awnings  which  entirely  shaded  the 
whole  course  of  the  procession  and,  as  it  finally 
turned  out,  protected  the  rich  vestments  of  the 
ecclesiastics,  the  costly  sacred  vessels  and  the 
sumptuous  coverings  from  passing  showers.  In 


12G  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

tlio  "  Place  de  la  Constitutione,"  a  wide-open  ir- 
regular plaza,  faced  by  the  town  hall  and  other 
public  edifices,  the  preparations  were  most  elab- 
orate. From  windows  of  the  hall  were  suspended 
crimson  velvet  hangings  trimmed  with  gold. 
Along  its  base,  great  stands  of  five  or  six  tiers 
were  covered  with  blooming  plants,  between 
which  \vere  line  large  palms.  Through  the  cen- 
tre of  the  Place  was  an  avenue  or  passage,  formed 
by  tall  scarlet  staffs  supporting  an  awning,  with, 
at  either  end,  a  tall  and  really  fine  architectural 
design  and  arch,  and  upon  every  pole  or  standard 
heraldic  shields  and  groups  of  flags.  From  bal- 
conies and  windows  upon  every  side,  bright  bits 
of  color  were  injected  into  the  scene,  by  gay  rugs, 
or  draperies  of  every  kind,  from  damasks  and 
satins  and  lace,  down  to  bright  silk  patchwork 
coverlets.  The  general  effect  was  so  bright  and 
festive,  one  quite  forgot  the  character  of  many  of 
the  details.  Some  of  the  streets  lined  by  the 
houses  of  the  wealthy,  or  well-to-do  classes,  softly 
shaded  by  the  awnings,  were  really  beautiful,  be- 
cause of  the  sumptuous  damask  and  glossy  satin 
hangings.  Anticipating  a  crowd  we  started  at 
8  A.  M.  for  the  Sagrario, — a  large  chapel  called  the 
parish  church,  connected  with  the  cathedral, — 
where,  upon  "the  octave  of  the  Immaculate  Con- 


CORPUS  CHRISTI  IN  SEVILLE.  127 

ception  "  and  Corpus  Christi,  during  the  service, 
ten  boys,  dressed  in  most  dainty  and  picturesque 
costumes  of  pages  of  time  of  Philip  III.,  dance 
upon  the  platform  of  the  high  altar,  before  the 
Host,  or  Lord,  in  presence  of  gorgeously  attired 
cardinal,  clergy  and  high  officials  of  the  city,  a 
sight  not  to  be  seen  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 
The  origin  of  this  singular  custom  is  obscure,  but 
it  was  established  originally  with  the  permission 
and  sanction  of  the  Pope.  One  legend  is,  that 
once,  when  the  city  was  besieged,  some  boys  over- 
heard a  group  of  soldiers  talking  over  a  plan  of 
sudden  attack.  Knowing  the  Spanish  soldiers 
were  not  on  guard,  they  said  one  to  another, 
"  What  can  we  do  to  let  the  danger  be  known  ?  " 
One  said,  "Let  some  of  us  dance  and  divert  them, 
while  the  others  go  and  reveal  the  plot."  So  in 
their  graceful,  rollicking  way,  and  rattling  their 
bright  castanets,  they  danced  before  the  men,  and 
the  delay  resulted  in  the  safety  of  the  city.  The 
Sagrario,  anywhere  else,  would  be  called  a  large 
church,  having  a  long,  wide  nave,  encircled  with 
small  chapels,  and  a  dome  over  a  hundred  feet  in 
height.  Colossal  statues  and  a  profusion  of  or- 
namental designs,  pictures  and  gilding  crowd  the 
interior  walls.  Upon  this  occasion,  when  we 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  secure  places,  with  unolv 


128  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

structed  view,  the  walls  of  the  choir  adjacent  to 
the  high  altar,  were  completely  hidden  by  hang- 
ings of  rich  crimson  velvet  with  bands  of  gold. 
A  temporary  aisle,  formed  by  iron  fences,  passed 
through  the  centre  to  a  large  open  space  in  front 
of  the  altar.  To  one  side  in  this  reserved  space, 
were  long  gilded  settees  with  brilliant  crimson 
upholsterings.  The  high  altar,  which  was  un- 
usually lofty,  was  a  blaze  of  images  and  silver 
candelabra,  with  some  fifty  lighted  candles, — a 
most  dazzling  grouping.  After  awhile  a  proces- 
sion of  the  governor  and  city  fathers  (or  their 
equivalent)  filed  in  two  by  two,  and  occupied  the 
golden  settees.  The  "  city  fathers  "  were  in  even- 
ing suits  and  white  gloves,  and  wore  ribbons 
around  their  necks  with  a  large  golden  pendant, 
while  the  old  governor  was  resplendent  with  wide 
sash-ribbons  and  honors.  The  superb  silk  flag  of 
Seville,  embroidered  and  embossed  with  heraldic 
insignia,  was  borne  in,  in  a  square  formed  by  four 
men  in  gorgeous  crimson  satin  doublets,  also  em- 
broidered with  crest  of  the  city.  As  they  wore 
silken  tights,  and  wigs  that  were  banged  in  front 
and  falling  to  their  shoulders  all  around,  and  had 
hanging  around  their  necks  large-brimmed  hats 
with  long  white  ostrich  plumes,  it  was  decidedly 
theatrical,  yet  pretty.  Men  in  gorgeous  liveries 


CORPUS  CHK1ST1  IN  SEVILLE.  J^g 

followed  with  various  insignia  of  office.  There 
was  a  great  deal  of  "  backing  and  filling  "  we  did 
not  understand;  some  sort  of  service  was  per- 
formed at  a  side  chapel,  and  then  music-stands 
were  brought  in  for  about  twenty  violinists,  etc. 
Soon  appeared  the  procession  of  the  Cardinal, 
consisting  of  a  multitude  of  priests  in  lilac  capes, 
lace  and  colored  robes,  followed  by  His  Emi- 
nence in  scarlet  satin  flowing  robe  with  immense 
train  carried  by  a  bearer.  After  the  Cardinal 
was  seated  at  one  side,  the  little  boys  appeared. 
There  were  ten  of  the  little  sprites,  dressed  most 
picturesquely  in  red  and  gold  doublets,  white 
satin  short-clothes  and  white  silken  hose  and 
white  satin  slippers,  and  white,  red  and  gold  hats 
with  turned-up  brims  with  long,  snowy  ostrich 
plumes.  They  took  their  places  thoroughly  un- 
abashed, before  the  high  altar  facing  one  an- 
other, five  upon  a  side.  The  music  began,  and 
the  strange,  dignified  dance  followed.  It  was 
most  of  the  time  a  slow  stately  movement  like  a 
minuet :  at  times  a  quick  and  complete  turn,  and 
a  constant  changing  and  interlacing  of  positions 
very  like  calisthenics,  accompanied  by  the  singing 
of  the  boys  and  clicking  of  their  castanets.  They 
danced  with  their  hats  on  before  the  Host,  which 
is  regarded  as  a  great  privilege.  It  was  certainly 
9 


130  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

extremely  pretty  and  artistic,  for  their  white- 
hosed  legs  and  dainty  bowed-slippers  added  much 
to  the  grace  of  it,  and  the  effect  of  the  rich  cos- 
tumes was  decidedly  picturesque.  It  seemed  in- 
congruous in  a  church,  yet  it  was  in  perfect  keep- 
ing with  the  theatrical  surroundings.  The  dance 
ceased.  The  little  fellows  dropped  for  a  moment 
upon  their  knees  and  then  descended  the  two  or 
three  steps  of  the  altar,  to  the  open  space  before 
the  group  of  city  officials,  and  were  soon  at  it 
again. 

While  they  were  dancing  in  this  space,  twelve 
men  in  white  and  black  robes  filed  in,  each  carry- 
ing a  huge  silver  censer,  and  proceeded  to  "  cense  " 
or  fumigate  the  whole  concern.  Ere  long  thick 
clouds  of  incense  smoke  dimmed  the  view  of  the 
high  altar,  and  all  the  while  the  little  fellows, 
like  fairies  or  sprites,  were  moving  to  and  fro  in 
measured  step.  Then  they  passed  down  the  aisle 
(not  very  reverently,  for  they  were  full  of  mis- 
chief), followed  by  the  glowing  scarlet  Cardinal, 
the  ecclesiastics  and  the  civic  officials,  and  the 
service  was  ended.  It  is  repeated  for  two  or 
three  days,  twice  a  day,  but  without  the  attend- 
ance of  the  city  authorities.  Upon  the  occasion 
of  the  fete  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  the  cos- 
tumes are  blue  and  white  instead  of  crimson  and 


CORPUS  CHRISTI  IN  SEVILLE.  131 

white.  We  witnessed  the  service  again,  with  the 
Cardinal  kneeling,  as  in  profound  prayer,  and  upon 
one  side  the  Duchess  of  Montpensier,  a  King's 
daughter  in  heavy  mourning,  kneeling  in  con- 
tinuous devotion  at  a  "  prie-dieu  "  upon  the  op- 
posite side  with  several  of  her  family  around  her. 
It  gained  in  impressiveness  by  the  absence  of  the 
city  fathers,  but  was  spectacular  and  theatrical 
to  the  last. 

At  the  close  of  the  first  service  we  hurried  out 
and  made  our  way  through  a  dense  crowd,  being 
assisted  and  treated  with  marked  attention  and 
courtesy,  to  the  "  Place  de  la  Constitutione,"  where 
from  a  delightful  balcony,  we  overlooked  the 
whole  processional  display.  Upon  this  day  all 
the  treasures  of  the  cathedral,  many  of  which  we 
had  seen,  comprising  temples,  statues,  candelabra, 
huge  structures  for  holding  the  Host,  all  in  solid 
silver,  with  rich  jewels,  costly  robes  of  satin, 
gold  and  velvet,  are  carried  upon  the  platforms 
so  draped  with  the  golden  and  colored  brocades 
as  to  hide  the  carriers  beneath,  from  the  cathe- 
dral to  the  church  of  St.  Saviour  in  solemn  pro- 
cession, followed  by  the  ecclesiastics  and  officials 
in  their  rich  robes  and  insignia.  Before  the 
church  the  dance  is  given  again,  and  then  the 
procession  makes  a.  circuit  of  the  city  and  returns 


132  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

to  the  cathedral.  The  scene,  the  general  effect, 
from  our  balcony,  while  theatrical  and  showy, 
was  very  brilliant  and  beautiful.  Two  lines  of 
mounted  soldiers  lining  one  side  of  the  plaza, 
while  every  window  and  balcony  was  a  glory  of 
kaleidoscopic  color,  formed  a  regular  Joseph's 
coat,  from  a  satin  damask  bedspread  to  a  patch- 
work quilt.  Every  platform  with  a  costly  silver 
candelabra  and  paraphernalia  was  profusely  deco- 
rated with  flowers  and  numerous  burning  candles. 
As  the  great "  Custodia,"  a  tall  temple  or  pagoda- 
like  structure  containing  the  Host  passed,  the 
effect  was  fine  and  impressive.  The  flash  of 
sunlight  upon  the  silver  temple,  and  the  purple 
capes  and  white  lace  of  the  ecclesiastics,  the 
golden  vestments  and  the  gorgeous  scarlet  robes 
and  train  of  the  Cardinal,  was  most  striking. 
The  group  of  carriers  in  crimson  satin,  with  the 
flag  of  Seville,  was  followed  by  the  Captain  General 
and  city  officials,  each  with  a  liveried  servant  to 
carry  his  hat !  The  procession  first  rounded  a 
corner  beneath  us,  then  gradually  curved  to  one 
of  the  arches  in  the  plaza,  defiled  through  the 
aisle  formed  by  flagstaffs,  festoons  of  gas  jets 
and  flowers,  and  passed  out  of  sight  through  the 
distant  arch.  As  the  Host,  Corpus  Christi — the 
body  of  Christ — rested  in  the  centre  of  the  plaza, 


CORPUS  CHRISTI  IN  SEVILLE.  133 

the  incense-bearers,  enveloped  it  in  a  cloud  of 
smoke.  Just  as  the  last  end  of  the  procession 
disappeared  there  was  a  patter  of  rain  which 
soon  developed  into  a  heavy  shower.  Then  the 
cavalry,  upon  spirited  horses,  who  had  stood  so 
still  the  whole  length  of  the  plaza  in  two  or  three 
rows,  slowly  formed  and  passed  splendidly 
through  the  arch,  and  the  pageant  for  us  was 
over.  The  day  was  to  terminate  with  a  grand 
bull-fight,  but  it  rained  so  heavily  the  ring  was 
unfit,  and  at  three  o'clock  official  notice  was  given 
that  there  would  be  none.  Thousands  were  dis- 
appointed, but  we  were  glad  of  it,  for,  with 
a  popular  writer,  "our  sympathies  were  with  the 
bull."  Every  town  of  any  importance  has  its 
ring.  It  is  the  national  sport.  "  Did  you  not 
see  a  bull-fight  ?  "  some  one  will  ask  !  No !  for 
with  an  aversion  to  the  sight  of  blood,  that  makes 
a  common  butcher's  stall  far  from  agreeable,  it 
seemed  hardly  worth  while  to  so  mar  a  pleasure- 
trip.  Almost  every  one  we  met  who  had  witnessed 
one  said,  "  Don't  go,"  and  yet,  it  was  noticeable 
the  majority  went  more  than  once.  Strangely 
incongruous  it  seems,  that  a  day  given  up  in 
honor  of  the  body  of  Christ  should  close  with  the 
brutal  slaughter  of  helpless  animals  and  the  en- 
dangering of  human  lives,  with  the  applause  of 


184  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

countless    thousands,    fearfully    suggestive    in 
spirit   of   the  bloodthirsty  cry  of  the  multitude 
of  old,  "  Crucify  Him  !  Crucify  Him !  " 
17 


WITH  MURILLO  IN  SEVILLE. 

FAMILIARITY  with  the  masterpieces  scattered 
through  the  galleries  and  palaces  of  continental 
Europe  had  long  ago  inspired  a  genuine  love  and 
enthusiastic  admiration  for  the  works  of  Murillo, 
that  strange  artist,  who,  in  his  choice  of  subjects, 
whether  realistic  or  mystical,  matter  of  fact  or 
deeply  spiritual,  seems  equally  at  home.  Some- 
where, years  ago,  we  read,  "  Until  you  have  seen 
his  works  in  Spain,  you  will  not  know  what  a  Mu- 
rillo is."  This  alone  was  sufficient  to  create  a  long- 
ing to  visit  that  romantic  country  which  is  fast 
becoming  the  happy  hunting-ground  of  the  latter- 
day  tourist.  But  after  seeing  the  wonderful 
galaxy  in  Seville,  of  the  superb  group  at  the 
Gallery,  the  gems  at  the  Cathedral  and  the  fine 
duo  at  the  Hospital  of  La  Caridad,  and  later  the 
marvellous  canvasses  in  the  Royal  Gallery  and 
Academy  of  San  Fernando  at  Madrid  and  recall- 
ing the  lovely  Holy  Child  in  the  National  at 
London,  the  dreamy,  mystical  Immaculate  Con- 
ception in  the  Louvre  at  Paris,  the  irresistible 

135 


130  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

fascinating  "gamins"  at  Munich,  the  incompar- 
able St.  John  at  Vienna  and  the  same  and  other 
subjects  in  the  Hermitage  at  St.  Petersburg, — 
we  questioned  seriously  the  correctness  of  the 
assertion.  There  are  ways  of  looking  at  pictures, 
and  again  there  are  ways.  Sometimes,  as  we 
have  listened  to  the  comments  of  critics,  artists 
and  connoisseurs,  we  have  wondered  just  where 
their  enjoyment  of  the  pictures  themselves  comes 
in !  For  ourselves,  we  were  content  to  give  up 
entirely  to  the  soft  glory  of  rich  and  liquid  color- 
ing,— the  deep,  mystical,  dreamy  sentiment  and 
the  wonderful,  suggestive  expression,  ignoring 
possible  flecks  and  flaws  and  imperfections  as 
something  life,  or  at  any  rate  our  sojourn  in  Spain, 
was  too  brief  for, — and  relegating  all  such  to  the 
conscientious  student  and  the  heartless  critic. 
The  view,  from  the  standpoint  of  enjoyment, 
may  be  that  of  ignorance,  but  to  many  it  is 
preferable  to  everlasting  fault-finding  under  the 
affected  guise  of  cultivation  and  intelligence. 
The  pictures  which  form  the  Gallery  at  Seville, 
hang  not  in  sumptuous  or  well-ordered  "  salons," 
as  in  continental  cities,  but  upon  the  dull  terra- 
cotta walls  of  the  old  disused  church  or  chapel 
of  the  ancient  Convent  de  la  Merced,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  city,  founded  way  back  in  the  twelfth 


WITH  MURILLO  IN  SEVILLE.  137 

century,  but  suppressed  in  1835.  With  a  barrel- 
vaulted  roof  covered  with  indifferent  and  gaudy 
frescoes,  a  dome  rising  above  the  intersection 
of  single  nave  and  transept,  pictures  framed  in 
wide,  plain  mouldings  with  gilding  decidedly  the 
worse  for  age  and  wear,  the  paintings  them- 
selves looking  hard  and  dry,  and  a  general  appear- 
ance of  dinginess  and  forlornity,  itis  not  an  ideal 
gallery.  The  dozen  and  a  half  paintings  by 
Murillo  are  like  jewels  in  an  ash-heap.  One  sees 
also  two  fine  cloistered  courts  and  a  museum  of 
unsightly,  although  doubtless  interesting,  frag- 
ments from  Italica,  the  old  Roman  stronghold  in 
the  far  suburbs  of  the  city.  But  there  is  a  pecul- 
iar satisfaction  in  seeing  the  priceless  gems  of 
an  age  that  is  past  sumptuously  and  richly 
housed.  The  majority  of  the  Murillos  were 
painted  for  a  single  Capuchin  convent.  Some 
look  as  if  fading,  but  the  majority  are  warm 
and  rich  in  coloring  and  grand  and  powerful  in 
sentiment  and  purpose.  There  are  several  "  Im- 
maculate Conceptions  "  which  confirm  the  feeling 
that  he  painted  this  subject,  until,  at  last,  in  the 
one  taken  by  Soult  and  now  in  the  Louvre,  he 
realized  his  ideal.  None  approach  it  in  beauty, 
dreamy  sentiment  or  soft  liquid  coloring.  In 
a  line  upon  one  side  hang  a  dozen  or  more  large 


138  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

canvasses — made  a  joy  forever  by  his  magic 
touch.  The  one,  considered  the  finest  and  said 
to  have  been  regarded  by  Murillo  as  his  best,  is 
St.  Thomas  of  Villaneuva  giving  alms.  The  old 
Bishop,  in  full  black  robes,  stands  at  a  Cathedral 
door  distributing  gifts  to  a  promiscuous  crowd. 
Fine  opportunity  is  given  for  a  great  variety  of 
attitude,  expression  and  coloring.  The  figure  of 
a  kneeling  beggar  is  very  fine,  while  a  little  group 
in  one  corner  of  a  mother  and  child  looking  at  a 
piece  of  money  bestowed,  is  a  picture  of  itself. 
A  large  picture  represents  St.  Joseph  with  his 
arm  around  the  child  Jesus.  The  lovely  figure 
and  sweet  innocent  face  of  the  child  recalls  that 
in  the  London  Gallery,  the  position  and  dress 
being  similar.  One  could  sit  for  hours  before 
this  one  dear  little  face  and  form  alone. 

The  Celebrated  "Virgin  of  the  Napkin"  (so 
called  because  painted  upon  a  serviette  for  the 
cook  of  a  convent)  is  small,  but  very  brilliant,  yet 
soft  and  delicious  in  coloring.  But  it  seemed  to 
us  nothing  could  exceed  in  pathos,  deep  interest 
or  spirituality  and  rich  glowing  representation 
the  Vision  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  and  the  St. 
Anthony  of  Padua,  which  hang  side  by  side,  the 
first  holding  in  his  loving  embrace  the  Saviour 
dead, — the  other  the  Infant  and  living  Christ. 


WITH  MURILLO  IN  SEVILLE.  139 

In  the  former,  the  dead  Christ  suspended  upon 
the  cross  has  miraculously  loosed  one  hand  and 
returns  the  loving,  tender  embrace  of  St.  Francis, 
who  looks  up  into  the  Redeemer's  face  with  a 
yearning  gaze  full  of  passionate  love,  reverential 
awe  and  sublime  pity.  The  world  represented 
by  a  ball  or  sphere  rolls  away  from  his  feet, 
while  two  lovely  cherubs  hold  an  open  book  in 
the  air. 

In  the  latter  the  Saint  is  kneeling  with  a  lily 
in  one  hand  and  with  head  reposing  lovingly 
against  the  Divine  Child.  The  radiant,  ecstatic 
and  satisfied  expression  of  the  purified  face  and 
gentle  eyes  is  marvellous,  but  the  child  is  only  a 
lovely,  fair  and  handsome  babe  that  might  be 
called  by  any  name.  The  flesh  tint  of  the  plump 
little  limbs  and  form  is  very  beautiful.  Above  is 
a  little  glory  of  cherubs,  which  Murillo  knew  so 
well  how  to  group  and  paint.  Some  authorities 
consider  this  picture  even  finer  than  the  one  of 
the  same  name  in  the  Cathedral.  It  has  the 
freshness  of  the  physique  of  untried  youth,  the 
ecstasy  and  sentimental  bliss  of  inexperience,  the 
simple  joy,  delight  and  satisfaction  of  the  present. 
It  asks  no  more,  it  possesses  the  realization  of  its 
dream,  for  the  mortal  arms  embrace  the  Infant 
Christ — and  satisfaction  and  content  are  supreme. 


140  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

The  other  evidences  mature  and  impressive  for- 
getf  ulness  of  self  in  the  reverent  yearning  tender- 
ness and  pity  with  which  the  Saint  farther 
advanced  in  life  and  experience  looks  up  at  his 
crucified  Lord,  and,  in  the  calm,  earnest  realization 
that  a  life  has  been  laid  down  for  him,  would 
fain  do  something  for  Him  in  return.  Both  faces 
are  wonderful,*  both  hold  one  with  an  irresistible 
power  and  spell.  In  the  hallowing,  quieting 
atmosphere  of  these  wondrous  creations  one  for- 
gets everything  but  the  grand,  sublime  fact  of  a 
Saviour  born  and  crucified  and  ever  living  to 
make  intercession  for  us.  One  cannot  wander 
through  Europe  and  look  without  increasing  in- 
terest and  unfailing  delight  at  the  works  of  the 
Old  Masters,  without  being  impressed  with  the 
magnitude  of  the  debt  which  art  lovers  owe  to  the 
Romish  church,  in  that  so  many  of  the  master- 
pieces were  painted  originally  for  votive  offerings, 
gifts  or  decorations  for  her  altars,  sacred  edifices 
and  conventual  buildings.  Through  long  years  of 
tumult,  of  Avars  and  rumors  of  wars,  that,  which  in 
private  possession  would  doubtless  have  been  de- 
stroyed, has  been  conserved  in  her  dim  sanctuaries 
and  sacred  retreats,  and  the  art  world  is  infinitely 
richer  and  fuller  to-day,  for  her  unconscious  guard- 
ianship. One  wonders  sometimes  if  the  demand 


WITH  MURILLO  IN  SEVILLE.  141 

were  the  same  to-day,  whether  the  supply  would 
be  proportionately  fine!  For  the  high  water 
mark  has  apparently  been  reached  in  painting, 
sculpture  and  architecture.  But  the  intelligent 
response  of  to-day  would  certainly  not  be  marked 
by  such  droll  incongruities.  The  Madonna 
would  not  be  simply  the  woman  of  the  artist's 
country  with  her  infant  child,  which  is  such  a 
marked  characteristic  of  the  Old  Masters,  but  a 
typical  Jewish  maiden,  the  "  handmaid  of  the 
Lord,"  with  the  draperies  and  environment  of  the 
Holy  Land  or  Orient,  and  the  donor  of  a  picture 
nowadays  would  scarcely  consent  to  being  com- 
placently included  in  a  group  of  those  who  lived 
some  eighteen  hundred  years  ago. 

Near  the  yellow  Guadalquivir  is  the  old 
church  and  convent  "  De  La  Caridad,"  a  visit  to 
which  one  would  be  sorry  to  lose,  for,  upon  the 
crimson  damask  walls  of  its  exceedingly  narrow 
chapel,  hangs  Murillo's  wonderful  picture  of 
"  Moses  Smiting  the  Rock."  It  is  a  very  long, 
narrow  canvas,  richly  framed,  but  hung  too  high 
for  comfortable  examination.  Unfortunately 
for  us,  the  light  upon  it  was  such  a  glare  that  it 
was  quite  impossible  to  see  the  entire  picture  at 
once.  The  central  figure  of  Moses  is  the  least 


142  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

satisfactory  of  all,  being  theatrical  and  studied. 
The  rest  is  simplicity  itself,  a  great  crowd  of 
thirsty  ones  made  glad  and  exultant  by  the  mira- 
culous bringing  forth  of  the  refreshing  stream. 
The  faces  are  so  famished  and  eager,  so  exultant 
and  grateful!  At  one  side  upon  a  white  horse 
is  a  child,  quite  suggestive  of  his  famous  beggar 
boys,  laughing  for  joy.  Beside  is  a  young  girl 
upholding  a  jug  which  is  a  complete  and  ex- 
quisite picture  of  itself.  A  dear  little  baby  held 
in  its  mother's  arm  is  trying  to  get  a  drink  of  the 
life-giving  flood.  To  the  other  side  a  dog  is  seen 
lapping,  lapping,  with  as  much  evident  delight 
and  joy  as  any  human  being,  while  a  child  close 
by  drinks  eagerly  from  a  dish.  The  story  is 
simply  but  dramatically  told  and  the  whole  pict- 
ure is  a  mass  of  richest  tones  and  tints, — of 
glowing  and  brilliant  colors.  Yet  for  this  wonder- 
ful composition  Murillo  received  but  six  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  !  and  perhaps  he  never 
collected  the  whole  of  that!  Compared  with 
this  think  of  the  prices  of  to-day  !  Five 
other  pictures  by  Murillo,  one  "  The  Feeding  of 
the  Multitude,"  a  large  canvas  much  praised  by 
the  authorities,  grace  the  walls  and  make  this 
little  boudoir  of  a  chapel  a  painter's  shrine.  The 
group  of  buildings  composed  of  chapel,  convent 


WITH  MURILLO  IN  SEVILLE.  143 

and  hospital  enclose  two  open,  quiet,  sunlit  courts, 
bright  with  flowers  and  shrubs.  Hundreds  of 
years  ago  a  gay  and  dissolute  courtier  turned 
over  a  new  leaf  and  brought  forth  fruits  meet  for 
repentance  in  the  erection  and  rich  endowment 
of  this  pile,  wherein  even  to-day  "  a  multitude  of 
impotent  folk,"  aged  and  decrepit  men,  find  a 
peaceful  harbor  until  the  storms  are  o'er,  cared 
for  by  a  devoted  band  of  Sisters  or  nuns,  who  in 
their  blue  gray  habits  and  picturesque  starched 
head-gear  flit  to  and  fro  in  their  quiet  ministra- 
tions in  an  atmosphere  of  peace  and  retirement 
in  strange  contrast  with  the  life  at  their  very 
gates.  So  history  repeats  itself.  Out  of  the  bit- 
ter hath  come  forth  the  sweet !  Again,  as  of  old, 
where  sin  abounded  grace  doth  much  more 
abound,  in  this  ceaseless  ministration,  this  per- 
petual benediction  of  peace  on  earth  and  good 
will  toward  men. 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CORDOVA. 

THE  keen  regret  with  which  we  left  Seville, 
catching  a  last  glimpse  of  the  summit  of  the  state- 
ly Giralcla,  above  a  thicket  of  trees  as  we  turned 
away,  was  quickly  (so  fickle  is  the  effect  of  con- 
tinuous travel)  merged  and  lost  in  delightful  an- 
ticipation and  pleasant  curiosity,  for  we  realized 
that  our  faces  were  set  toward  fresh  fields,  even 
Cordova  and  her  famous  Cathedral  Mosque  only 
four  short  hours  away.  Perhaps  the  scenery 
and  country  all  that  warm  and  lovely  morning 
could  truthfully  be  called  a  little  tame,  and  cer- 
tainly would  seem  monotonous  and  wearisome 
were  we  compelled  to  pass  that  way  frequently, 
but  we  were  so  comfortable  in  a  compartment  all 
by  ourselves,  which  in  this  land  of  the  omnipres- 
ent and  perpetually  burning  cigarette  is  an  ines- 
timable boon,  and  were  in  such  a  receptive  mood 
we  enjoyed  every  rod.  At  times  we  looked  over 
fertile,  undulating  meadows  to  the  low  lying 

hills  bounding  the  horizon  ;  again  we  passed  over 
144 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CORDOVA.  145 

level  plains  yellow  with  harvested  fields ;  past 
great  hedgerows  of  gray  aloes  and  enormous 
prickly  pears  in  full  bloom,  extensive  olive  plan- 
tations and  miles  of  country,  literally  without  a 
tree.  Spain  is  properly  called  a  "  treeless  land  " 
in  the  sense  of  almost  entire  absence  of  forest 
growth  or  trees  of  any  great  size  or  age.  Being 
in  a  cheerful  frame,  we  were  much  entertained 
by  characteristic  trifles  along  the  route ;  gentle- 
men at  the  way  stations  with  picturesque  som- 
breros and  queer  little  ornamented  jackets  such  as 
schoolboys  used  to  wear ;  the  ringing  of  a  com- 
mon country  dinner  bell  as  signal  for  starting 
of  the  train  ;  an  occasional  costume  and  the  num- 
bers of  beautiful  children  and  fresh,  handsome 
women.  There  was  something  droll  in  the  sight 
of  plants  and  flowers  we  cultivate  carefully  in 
pots,  growing  to  a  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet  in 
open  air.  Just  out  of  Seville  we  passed  a  large 
patch  or  thicket  of  pomegranate  bushes,  starred 
with  the  same  brilliant  scarlet  flowers  we  value 
so  highly,  growing  as  rank  as  pestilent  weeds. 
Here  and  there  low  country  houses  with  tiled 
roofs  and  side  walls  dazzling  with  frequent  white- 
wash, and  occasionally,  upon  an  elevation,  the 
ruin  of  some  old  tower  or  castle  wall,  give  a  touch 
of  life  to  the  scene.  In  thinking  of  Cordova  we 
9 


14G  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

found  we  dwelt  only  upon  the  wonderful  Mosque, 
and  immediately  upon  arrival  were  much  sur- 
prised to  find  it  so  lively,  for  even  the  guide-book 
spoke  of  it  as  "dead."  On  our  way  to  the  hotel 
we  passed  beautiful  public  gardens,  pretty  squares 
and  many  fine  houses.  After  lunch  we  picked 
our  way  through  the  old  narrow  and  crooked 
streets  of  the  town,  stopping  frequently  to  look 
at  the  charming  patios  or  courts,  visible  through 
a  vestibule  with  handsome  iron  gates  and  often 
a  blaze  of  color  from  numerous  flowering  plants, 
until  we  came  in  a  tremor  of  excitement  and 
delight  to  the  ancient  Moorish  Mosque  now  called 
the  Cathedral.  As  with  the  Alhambra,  the  ex- 
terior presents  little  to  attract,  for,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  as  one  approaches  he  sees  only  great 
heavy  walls  with  massive  buttresses  and  fancy 
battlements,  more  suggestive  of  a  fortress  of  de- 
fensive structure  than  of  a  church  or  ecclesiasti- 
cal pile.  Yet  with  the  multitude  of  towers,  the 
variety  of  battlements  and  the  architectural 
traces  of  former  entrances,  it  is  impressive  and 
picturesque.  A  tall  massive  tower  with  a  number 
of  bells  replaces  the  original  tower  of  the  muez- 
zins and  forms  the  chief  entrance  to  the  famous 
Court  of  the  Oranges  and  thence  to  the  Mosque 
itself.  It  is  a  perfect  transformation  to  step 


The  Mosque,  Cordova. 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CORDOVA.  147 

from  the  city  street  into  this  Court  some  four 
hundred  and  thirty  feet  long  and  two  hundred 
and  ten  wide,  full  of  shining  orange  trees,  plash- 
ing fountains,  groups  of  beggars,  soldiers  with 
scarlet  trousers,  and  frequently  women  in  black 
enveloped  in  the  lovely  and  graceful  Spanish  lace 
mantillas  or  veils.  Originally  stately  palms  and 
sombre  cypresses  also  adorned  it,  but  a  hurricane 
made  sad  havoc  seventy  or  more  years  ago  with 
them,  and  Spanish  indolence  has  prevented  a 
replacing.  Colonnades  of  marble  columns  and 
arches  remain — all  a  little  worse  for  wear.  Cross- 
ing this  open  space,  to  the  great  elaborately 
carved  doors  of  the  Cathedral  proper,  we  lifted 
aside  theheavy  greasy  leathern  curtain,  and  in  an 
instant  passed  from  the  open  sunlit  court  into 
a  scene  so  strange,  weird  and  novel  that  it  seems 
well-nigh  indescribable.  Everywhere  color  of 
soft  red,  blue  and  cream,  lifted  in  double  arches 
in  the  air ;  a  forest  of  marble  columns  of  pink 
and  gray  and  white  stretching  away  and,  with 
the  supported  arches,  losing  themselves  in  the 
soft  haze  of  distance.  The  form,  which  at  first 
does  not  impress  one,  is  square,  with  twenty- 
nine  naves  or  aisles  from  north  to  south  and  nine- 
teen from  east  to  west,  all  lined  and  designated 
by  these  beautiful  columns, wreathed  with  the  soft 


148  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

glory  of  the  ruddy  and  snowy  arches.  Alas !  it 
is  low,  the  ceiling  being  only  thirty-five  feet  above 
the  ancient  pavement,  which  inspires  the  feeling 
that  you  must  be  in  a  magnificent  crypt  and 
wonder  what  superb  architectural  marvel  towers 
above  it.  But  it  is  considered  "  the  finest  type  in 
Europe  of  the  true  temple  of  Islam."  Since  those 
halcyon  days  we  have  looked  upon  the  Mosque 
at  Damascus,  now  in  ruins,  and  the  famous  Ack- 
sah  of  Jerusalem,  but  the  memory  of  that  weird 
and  matchless  interior  suffers  no  loss.  At  first, 
the  sight  of  the  forest  of  columns  and  the  maze 
of  arches  is  bewildering, — the  effect  kaleidoscopic 
and  bewitching .  With  every  change  of  position 
the  scene  varies.  It  seems  to  move!  It  is  con- 
fusing, but  ere  long,  as  the  eye  becomes  accus- 
tomed to  it,  it  becomes  orderly,  serene  and 
sublime.  Here  and  there  through  lengthened 
vistas  of  delicious  beauty,  appears  far  away  the 
exquisite  fretwork  and  intricate  designs  of  the 
Moorish  style.  Sometimes  one  looks  down 
through  a  long  vista  of  orderly  arches,  then, 
perchance,  diagonally  through  a  confusion  or 
chaos  of  arches  and  colors  to  the  soft  gleaming 
of  distant  buff  and  red  or  to  some  remote  sunlit 
arch,  gilded  and  glowing.  It  is  not  "  churchly  " 
ecclesiastical,  in  the  sense  that  Westminster, 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CORDOVA.  U<j 

Notre  Dame,  St.  Stephen's  or  even  St  Peter's  are. 
It  is  as  tranquil  and  pensive  as  a  place  for  the  dead, 
yet  it  is  also  as  sensuous  and  voluptuous  as  a  bath  ! 
It  is  too  low  to  inspire  awe,  but  it  animates 
enjoyment  and  admiration  unceasingly.  It  is  a 
soothing  and  tranquillizing  monotone  of  mellow, 
oriental,  voluptuous  beauty  which  intoxicates  the 
sense  and  bewilders  the  mind.  It  conduces  to 
sentimental  dreaming  and  to  meditative  thought 
as  well,  but  it  does  not  uplift  and  support  as  the 
grand,  lofty  old  Gothic  naves  do.  It  is  a  dream, 
a  vision,  a  fairy  scene,  not  spectacular,  sensa- 
tional or  dramatic,  but  soft,  solemn  and  satisfy- 
ing. It  reminds,  at  times,  of  a  military  drill,  so 
statuesque,  and  then  again  so  full  of  rhythmic  and 
stately  movement  does  the  forest  of  slender  shafts 
and  columns  appear.  As  you  move,  scarcely  know- 
ing where  to  begin,  and  uncertain  as  to  where 
the  ethereal  mirage  may  end,  you  may  perchance 
look  down  some  apparently  interminable  vista 
of  delicate,  mellow-tinted  arches  and  see  at  the 
end  an  iron  lattice,  or  grille,  with  slants  of  gol- 
den sunshine  streaming  through.  Xo  matter 
which  way  your  enraptured  vision  may  turn,  al- 
ways are  visible  the  dainty,  delicate-hued  arches, 
the  slender  columns  of  jasper,  porphyry  and  mar- 
ble of  innumerable  tints.  You  may  sit  for  hours 


150  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  not  a  movement  or  a  sound  will  break  the 
calm  repose,  and  then  perhaps  some  black-robed 
figure  will  glide  quietly  by,  or  kneel  at  some  dis- 
tant shrine;  or  a  company  of  acolytes  in  scarlet 
robes  and  white  lace  will  saunter  along  laugh- 
ingly, or  the  sweet  tones  of  the  organ  reverberate 
gently  through  the  solemn  place.  It  is  easy  to  say 
there  are  from  one  thousand  to  twelve  hundred 
columns,  or  were  originally  ;  that  there  are  rows 
of  twenty-nine  arches  one  way  and  nineteen  the 
other,  intersecting  at  right  angles,  but  this  car- 
ries no  impression  or  idea  of  its  witchery  and  fas- 
cination. If  this  unique  structure  could  only  have 
been  left  unchanged  and  unharmed,  it  would  now 
be  one  of  the  architectural  Meccas  of  the  world. 
Completed  in  79G  it  stood,  a  dream  of  loveliness, 
with  arches  studded  with  emeralds  and  rubies, 
with  walls  perforated  and  incised  in  delicate  lace- 
like  conceits,  and  roof  glistening  with  color  and 
gold,  in  which  the  Moslem  made  his  graceful  and 
picturesque  obeisance  for  hundreds  of  years,  and 
then  the  incoming  and  capturing  Christians  "  puri- 
fied "  it,  and  in  1521  ruthlessly  tore  away  columns 
and  arches  and  decorations,  making  a  great  open 
space  in  the  centre,  in  which  they  built  a  Cathe- 
dral which  anywhere  else  would  be  imposing  and 
fine,  but  here  is  grotesque  and  inharmonious.  It 


Cordova  Cathedral,  Court  of  Oranges. 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CORDOVA.  151 

is  said  that  Charles  V.,  who  had  given  permis- 
sion but  was  unaware  of  what  was  being  done,  in- 
dignantly declared,  "  You  have  built  here  that 
which  can  be  built  anywhere  else,  but  you  have 
destroyed  that  which  was  unique  in  the  world." 
Yet  he  tore  out  the  heart  of  the  Alhambra  for  his 
palace !  How  difficult  to  see  ourselves  as  others 
see  us!  Within  this  church,  so  utterly  at  vari- 
ance with  the  style  and  spirit  of  the  old  Mosque, 
is  a  magnificent  Choir,  with  superb  carved  stalls 
of  dark  mahogany  and  in  framing  of  all  sorts  of 
graceful  conceits  a  double  row  of  carved  New 
and  Old  Testament  scenes  of  wonderful  beauty. 
Close  to  the  church  is  an  interesting  room,  the 
exquisite  ornamentation  of  whose  walls  has  been 
discovered  within  only  a  few  years.  It  is  now 
supposed  to  be  the  place  where  the  Koran  was 
kept.  At  the  rear  of  the  Mosque  is  a  room  where, 
until  this  last  was  discovered,  was  supposed  to  be 
the  receptacle  of  the  Koran.  It  is  such  a  gem  of 
architecture  and  art,  such  a  fitting  place  for  holy 
books,  that  it  is  a  pity  the  question  was  ever 
raised.  It  is  a  square  chapel  with  a  dome  com- 
pletely encrusted  with  soft,  yet  richly  colored, 
mosaics.  No  jewel  could  be  more  exquisitely  em- 
bedded, no  setting  more  richly  wrought.  A  small 
chapel  opens  from  it  with  a  doorway  decorated 


153  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

with  mosaics,  having  all  the  soft  richness  of  an 
India  shawl  and  a  ceiling  formed  of  a  single 
block  of  marble  sculptured  in  shape  of  a  shell ! 
Could  anything  in  solid  stone  be  more  poetical  ? 
The  whole  structure  sets  at  defiance  all  ordinary 
power  or  manner  of  description.  Almost  all  ec- 
clesiastical buildings,  with  their  spacious  naves, 
transepts  and  shadowy  aisles,  impart  some  one 
distinct  impression  or  idea,  and  if  confusion  reigns 
below,  the  lofty  roofs  tell  a  story  of  form  and 
comeliness.  But  this  is  simply  a  square  space 

with 

"  A  portal  and  an  altar  everywhere," 

with,  along  its  sides,  a  row  of  dark  inharmonious 
modern  chapels  and,  but  for  the  hideous  vandal- 
ism of  building  a  modern  church  in  the  centre, 
would  be  in  design  a  checker-board  formed  by 
multitudinous  aisles  crossing  at  right  angles. 
The  lack  of  height  dwarfs  its  possible  expression 
and  deprives  it  of  grandeur.  But  the  wilderness 
of  lovely  arches  and  exquisite  columns,  the  witch- 
ery of  the  vistas,  the  play  of  light  from  numer- 
ous cupolas  and  the  predominating  air  of  quiet 
and  repose,  make  it  unusually  beautiful  and  at- 
tractive. 

"  Seven  hundred  years  ago 
Moslem  made  this  structure  grow." 


THE  PRIDE  OF  CORDOVA.  153 

Is  it  "  Nemesis  "  that  this  pride  of  the  haughty 
Moor  which  occupies  the  site  of  a  destroyed 
church  has  in  turn  had  its  very  heart  torn  from 
it  to  do  reverence  to  the  religion  it  despised  ? 


GOLDEN  HOURS  AT  CORDOVA  AND 
ARANJUEZ. 

CORDOVA  may  possess  a  multitude  of  features 
of  interest,  but  a  sudden  and  unexpected  change 
in  our  plans  and  itinerary,  which  involved  imme- 
diate curtailment  of  the  length  of  our  sojourn, 
obliged  us  to  content  ourselves  with  our  never-to- 
be-forgotten  tarry  and  reverie  in  the  old  Cathe- 
dral Mosque ;  a  walk  to  the  ancient  Roman  bridge, 
a  tower  of  strength  even  to-day,  which  with 
several  stone  arches  spans  the  rapid  and  muddy 
Guadalquivir,  and  an  evening  visit  to  the  annual 
fair  or  sale, — a  most  characteristic,  picturesque 
and  interesting  scene.  A  large  open  promenade 
adjoining  the  public  gardens  was  brilliantly  and 
fancifully  illuminated,  and  along  the  whole  length 
upon  either  side  were  little  gayly  decorated  booths, 
crowded  with  toys,  lamps,  jewelry,  confectionery 
and  household  wares,  tended  in  many  cases  by 
persons  in  provincial  costumes.  Games  of  chance, 
and  many  a  booth  with  cauldron  of  boiling  fat  in 

which  quite  toothsome-looking  cakes  were  frying, 
154 


HOURS  AT  CORDOVA  AND  ARANJUEZ.     155 

and  numberless  devices  to  wheedle  the  "  pesetas  " 
from  the  lookers-on,  were  in  full  blast.  At  in- 
tervals among  the  trees  were  beautiful,  circular, 
raised  platforms  with  ornamental,  tented  cano- 
pies, which  belonged  to  various  clubs,  where  every 
evening  was  music  and  dancing  to  the  wee  small 
hours.  The  motley  crowd  was  quite  as  interest- 
ing as  the  fair.  Our  last  morning  we  devoted 
to  nature,  as  illustrated  by  the  "  Huerto  de  los 
Arcos,"the  suburban  estate  and  garden  of  the 
Marquis  de  la  Niga  de  Armijo."  The  road  from 
the  city  stretches  out  for  three  miles  in  a  white, 
straight  line,  leading  uphill  all  the  way.  But  it 
was  a  charming  drive,  for  it  was  through  the 
open  country ;  the  air  was  fresh  and  sweet  and  a 
procession  of  wild  flowers  attended  us  all  the 
way.  An  aureole  of  yellow,  pink,  blue,  red  and 
purple  fairly  surrounded  us.  As  for  the  scarlet 
poppies,  they  were  everywhere  !  Along  the  road- 
sides in  great  nodding  plumes,  in  the  yellow 
grain  fields,  and  in  some  places  well-nigh  domi- 
nating the  spontaneous  growth  upon  the  hillsides, 
blazed  the  rich  masses  of  glowing  scarlet.  And 
all  along  were  pensive,  meditative  and  solemn 
olive  groves!  What  more  could  we  ask?  Over 
us,  "like  God's  great  pity,"  blue  sky  and  great 
floating  white  clouds  ;  around  us,  color  and  soft 


156  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

verdancy ;  before  us  the  rising  ridge  upon  which 
we  could  discern  the  little  Moorish  villa  and  the 
terraced  gardens  we  were  to  visit,  and  on  every 
side  lovely  views  over  undulating  hills  and  green 
billowy  fields,  and  within  ! — well!  the  conscious- 
ness that  we  were  in  sunny  Spain  when  it  was 
sunny  and  just  the  right  time, — was  not  the  least 
of  our  pleasant  emotions !  At  the  end  of  the 
road  an  attendant  opened  an  iron  gate  and  ushered 
us  into  fairyland ;  a  succession  of  terraces  upon 
the  steep  hillside  with  a  thicket  of  orange  trees 
bowed  down  with  golden  fruit;  pomegranates, 
brilliant  with  scarlet  blossoms,  and  roses  and 
and  roses  without  number.  Sometimes  great, 
high  walls  which  upheld  a  terrace  were  vine-clad 
and  flower-decked  as  if  arranged  only  for  a  tem- 
porary or  festive  occasion.  Gradually  the  zigzag 
walk  took  us  to  a  little  elevated  platform  or  ter- 
race upon  which  stood  the  villa — the  only  resi- 
dence upon  the  place.  It  was  but  one  lofty  story 
in  height.  We  stepped  at  once  into  a  Moorish 
hall  or  sitting-room  in  the  centre,  from  which 
opened  upon  the  terrace  three  arched  doorways, 
commanding  an  extensive  view.  Adjoining  was  a 
dainty  billiard-room  with  tiny  Moorish  buffets  and 
queer  little  racks  filled  with  handsome  placques. 
There  may  have  been  three  small  sleeping-rooms 


HOURS  AT  CORDOVA  AND  ARANJUEZ.     157 

and, — that  was  all !  For  so  large  an  estate  and 
so  fine  a  garden  it  seemed,  compared  with  our 
way  of  living,  infinitesimally  small.  But  we 
were  told  the  Spanish  people  do  not  like  the 
isolated  life  and  never  entertain  in  the  country, 
and  are  very  simple  in  their  tastes.  Upon 
the  plateau,  well  shaded  and  overlooking  much 
that  is  beautiful,  were  small  tables  where  early 
coffee  and  the  midday  meal  are  frequently  taken. 
The  view  from  the  villa  is  magnificent.  One 
seems  lifted  high  in  air!  Way  down  in  the 
depths  lies,  like  a  great  green  and  brown  placque, 
the  olive-dotted,  charming  valley  or  plain  ;  to  the 
right,  gently  rising  hills  with  scarcely  a  tree. 
Cordova,  with  a  bit  of  the  yellow  Guadalquivir 
lying  slumbering  like  a  true  Spanish  peasant  in 
the  sun  upon  the  plain,  while  to  the  left  the 
hills  are  bolder  and  fade  away  in  great  purple, 
shadowy  slopes.  The  profuse  display  of  our 
common  garden  flowers  as  well  as  many  we  nur- 
ture in  conservatories  was  amazing.  Arbutilons, 
pomegranates  and  numerous  other  plants  stand 
loaded  with  blossoms,  to  a  height  of  eight  or  ten' 
feet.  Along  the  slope  of  one  walk  upon  the  walls 
were  one  hundred  pots  of  blooming  carnations ; 
along  another  a  great  bridal  troupe  of  Annun- 
ciation lilies,  while  fragrant  masses  of  white  and 


158  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

yellow  jasmine  waved  to  and  fro  on  every  side. 
An  old  Moorish  quarry — which  otherwise  would 
have  been  an  eyesore — has  been  beautifully  util- 
ized, the  rough  banks  being  festooned  and  covered 
with  ivy  and  roses  and  the  bed  levelled,  and  upon 
it,  picked  out  with  tiny  borders  of  box,  the  family 
coat-of-arms.  All  this  goes  on  from  year  to  year, 
for  frost  is  unknown — and  the  place  is  kept  fresh 
and  vigorous  by  irrigation.  When  the  atmosphere 
is  perfectly  clear,  the  distant  snowy,  peaks  of 
the  Sierras  beyond  Granada  can  be  discerned, 
but  that  day  they  were  more  like  faint,  indis- 
tinct banks  of  summer  cloud.  With  the  won- 
derful view  ever  unfolded,  and  the  hillside 
below  so  rich  with  verdure  of  orange  trees,  and 
the  air  so  fragrant  with  perfume  of  their  blos- 
soms and  of  countless  roses,  it  will  be  readily 
understood  why  two  brief  hours  seemed  very 
short  indeed.  Early  in  the  afternoon  we  took 
the  unavoidable,  because  only,  train  northward, 
which  was  to  give  us  our  first  experience  of  Span- 
ish night  travel.  Throughout  the  afternoon  our 
way  laid  through  a  richly  cultivated  country, 
with,  as  before,  scarcely  a  tree  for  miles,  until 
late  in  the  day,  when  we  came  into  a  most  varied 
and  hilly  country,  apparently  arid  and  desolate, 
and  in  sight  of  a  fine  chain  of  bold  and  pictur- 


HOURS  AT  CORDOVA  AND  ARAXJUEZ.     159 

esque  mountains.  The  evening  closed  in  upon 
us.  There  was  no  "sleeper."  We  could  do 
nothing  but  sit  bolt  upright,  be  uncomfortable, 
think  what  a  slow  country  Spain  is,  and  doze 
when  we  could.  In  the  afternoon  we  had  four 
men  in  our  compartment,  smoking  continuously 
of  course,  and  were  in  despair  as  we  thought  of 
the  coming  night  watches,  but  one  after  another 
they  disappeared,  and  at  midnight  what  was  left  of 
us  was  in  full  possession.  Like  the  French  after 
Magenta,  one  more  such  victory  would  have  ex- 
hausted us!  We  left  the  train  at  Aranjuez  at 
four-fifteen  the  next  morning.  At  that  hour  it 
was  so  still,  the  air  so  deliciously  refreshing,  and 
the  whole  place  so  much  more  embowered  in 
trees  than  any  town  we  had  seen,  that  to  us, 
tired,  sleepy  and  hungry,  it  was  simply  delight- 
ful. As  we  drove  to  the  hotel  we  caught  beau- 
tiful glimpses  of  the  palace,  long,  low  arcades, 
church  domes,  lovely  gardens  and  stately  avenues. 
The  wretched  little  inn  was  very  crowded  be- 
cause of  the  bull-fights  and  races.  The  servants, 
who  lodge  out,  had  not  appeared,  the  tables  were 
bare,  and  everything  far  from  attractive.  But 
as  the  day  wore  on  and  the  various  paraphernalia 
appeared  it  was  more  habitable,  and  we  were  fairly 
comfortable.  A  few  hours  later  we  started  to 


100  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

see  the  gardens  and  palace.  Way  back  in  the 
fifteenth  century  some  illustrious  Order  planted 
trees,  erected  a  villa  and  commenced  laying  out 
the  gardens.  Later  it  became  the  property  of 
the  crown,  and  after  many  vicissitudes  the  pres- 
ent palace  and  lovely  gardens  have  been  created 
and  developed.  For  a  long  time  the  residence  of 
the  court,  it  looks  even  now  like  another  Ver- 
sailles. As  it  is  rarely  occupied  or  used  at  the 
present  day  it  has  a  neglected  and  shabby  look 
which  is  pitiful,  which  is  to  be  regretted,  for  the 
trees  with  the  growth  of  centuries  are  so  fine 
and  the  gardens  so  lovely.  The  junction  of  the 
Tagus  and  the  Xarama  forms  an  island  upon 
which  the  large  palace  stands.  Along  one  side 
sweeps  the  wide  and  rapid  Tagus,  while  all 
around  is  a  moat  filled  with  a  rushing  stream. 
The  river  adds  much  to  the  charm,  for  along  the 
parterre  is  a  wall  of  stone  with  rail  and  row  of 
vases,  over  which  one  looks  down  upon  the  rush- 
ing waters,  as  they  break  in  a  long  cascade,  to  the 
channel  below.  The  parterre  lies  to  one  side, 
and  is  overlooked  from  the  palace,  and  is  level, 
with  meandering  walks,  stiff  flower-beds,  roses 
by  the  thousand,  and  sweet-williams,  canter- 
bury bells,  larkspurs,  and  many  other  old-fash- 
ioned flowers,  in  wildest  profusion.  It  is  a  brill- 


HOURS  AT  CORDOVA  AND  ARANJUEZ.     IGl 

iant  scene,  this  mosaic  of  floral  colors,  with  here 
and  there  a  white  statuette  or  pretty  fountain. 
To  and  fro  we  strolled  in  the  hot  sunshine,  wild 
with  delight ;  for  whether  "  in  it,"  or  above  it, 
as  from  palace  windows,  or  looking  across  it,  it 
was  like  stained  glass,  a  mass  of  rich,  deep, 
glowing  colors.  A  little  bridge  with  statues  on 
either  side  leads  to  the  larger  enchanting  and 
extensive  park-like  gardens.  Lovely,  shadowy 
avenues  of  palm  trees  stretch  along  the  river 
terrace.  Miles  of  hedge-lined  walls  radiate  in 
every  direction.  Through  the  thickets  of  living 
green  gleam  the  white  of  inferior  statuary  or  the 
brilliant  colors  of  rose  trees  or  flowering  shrubs. 
Huge  trees  wave  their  branches  and  cast  cool 
shadows,  and  one  may  walk  all  day  and  scarcely 
repeat  a  path.  It  is  stiff  and  angular,  but  none 
the  less  lovely,  with  the  numberless  cool,  green, 
shadowy  vistas  to  charm  the  eye  and  quiet  the 
spirit.  We  walked  through  a  multitude  of  rooms 
in  the  palace,  all  richly  papered,  or  with  drapings 
of  silk  and  satin,  many  pieces  of  quaint  and  an- 
tique furniture,  and  a  large  collection  of  mantel 
clocks — the  fad  of  a  king.  The  only  remarkable 
room  is  the  "  Capo  di  Monte,"  a  conceit  and  ex- 
travagance of  Charles  III.,  a  large  corner  "  salon  " 

with  walls  and  domed  ceiling  entirely  faced  with 
ii 


1G2  A  TEIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

china  slabs  or  tiles.  Upon  a  white,  glossy  ground 
appear  varied  Japanese  or  Chinese  figures,  trees, 
vines  and  flowers,  all  brilliantly  colored,  and, 
although  put  up  in  1762,  as  fresh  as  new.  It  is 
curious  and  interesting,  but  is  in  questionable 
taste.  Later  in  the  day  we  visited  the  "Gardens 
del  Principe,"  laid  out  upon  a  bolder  and  broader 
plan,  with  Avide  avenues  of  stately  trees,  little 
lakes,  streams,  summer-houses  and  spaces  with 
serpentine  and  meandering  walks.  The  island 
gardens  are  contracted  and  villa-like,  but  this  is 
park-like.  Within  its  enclosure  is  a  miniature 
palace,  a  sort  of  Trianon,  called  "Casadel  Labra- 
dor," or  workman's  cottage,  an  affectation,  for 
money  could  hardly  do  more,  although  taste 
could  do  better  with  less.  It  is  a  long,  low  struc- 
ture, with  projecting  wings  at  either  end,  form- 
ing a  three-sided  court,  with  exterior  profusely 
embellished  with  statues  and  busts.  Within, 
leading  to  the  state  apartments,  is  a  staircase, 
upon  which  fifteen  thousand  dollars  of  gold  has 
been  used.  A  suite  of  small  rooms  is  shown, 
richly  hung  with  superb  silks  and  damasks. 
Two  or  three  are  completely  covered  with  ex- 
quisitely embroidered  silk,  one  with  hand-em- 
broidered scenes,  while  the  woodwork  of  several 
is  delicately  inlaid  with  pearl  and  silver.  One 


HOURS  AT  CORDOVA  AND  ARANJUEZ.     163 

tiny  boudoir  is  finished  in  mahogany  ornamented 
with  gold  and  platina,  at  a  cost  of  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars  !  Gorgeous  clocks  of  all  kinds  and 
sizes,  exquisite  china,  and  much  indifferent  stat- 
uary are  scattered  lavishly  through  the  rooms. 
It  is  a  relief  to  be  out  in  the  air  and  under  the 
grand  old  trees  again.  Deserted  by  the  court, 
and  rarely  visited,  this  Spanish  Fontainebleau, 
with  its  stately  park  and  lovely  gardens,  lies 
fallow  and  unused  year  after  year.  Meanwhile 
the  overburdened  people  are  hopelessly  crushed 
by  taxation,  the  rich  natural  resources  of  the 
country  are  undeveloped,  and  the  regal  heritage 
of  a  long  line  of  kings  seems  perilously  near 
utter  bankruptcy. 


TOLEDO, 

"  THE    CROWN  OP  SPAIN." 

PERHAPS  we  enjoyed  the  approach  to  Toledo  the 
more,  because,  with  the  exception  of  the  Alhambra* 
it  was  the  first  place  we  had  seen  upon  an  eleva- 
tion. It  certainly,  that  bright  sunny  morning, 
was  very  fine,  for  "  the  crown  of  Spain"  is  a  city  set 
upon  a  hill.  Miles  away,  across  the  verdant  valley, 
the  ancient  battlemented  walls  and  towers  and 
the  dominating  pile  of  the  great  Alcazar,  crowning 
the  summit  of  an  abrupt  eminence  with  cheerless 
environment  of  treeless  hills,  brown  and  scantily 
covered,  stood  out  like  a  picture,  clear,  bold  and 
flashing  in  the  sunlight.  It  was  a  railway  journey 
from  Aranjuez  of  no  particular  interest,  of  a  little 
more  than  two  hours.  The  station  is  upon  the 
plain  at  the  base  of  the  hill,  which  is  fortunate, 
for  the  rapidly  ascending  drive  is  peculiarly 
imposing  and  striking,  for  the  situation  upon  the 
hill  crest  is  so  unique,  with  bluff-like  sides,  and  a 

deep  almost  encircling  gorge  or  ravine  through 
1G4 


TOLEDO.  105 

which  flows  rapidly  the  yellow  Tagus,  while  the 
opposing  banks  rise  wild  and  sombre,  and  the 
valley  by  which  we  came  spreads  out  below, 
fresh  and  verdant  with  the  river  winding  ribbon- 
like  out  of  sight.  As  we  climbed  the  hill,  the 
gray,  square,  four-towered  Alcazar  seemed  like  a 
mighty  fortress,  bidding  defiance  to  any  intruder, 
— the  battlemented  walls  gave  the  brown  roofs, 
towers  and  cupolas  of  the  city  a  fortified  and  well 
protected  appearance.  Across  the  ravine  and 
river  a  fine  stone-arched  bridge  fairly  leaps,  the 
smooth  beautiful  road  zigzags  upward  past  walls 
and  terraces  commanding  superb  views,  to  the 
level  of  the  city,  while  at  the  entrance  towers  and 
gates  confront  with  a  decidedly  formidable  and 
belligerent  effect.  The  number  of  really  good 
hotels  in  Spain  is  so  infinitesimal  that  it  is  a 
kindness  to  record  that  here,  beautifully  located, 
in  this  antiquated  city,  has  been  built  within  a 
few  years  a  fine  structure,  Moorish  in  general 
style,  with  all  the  appointments  and  requirements 
of  the  present  day.  It  commands  a  lovely  view, 
and  at  the  time  of  our  visit  was  admirably  con- 
ducted. The  town  is  a  labyrinth  of  narrow 
streets,  so  tortuous  and  often  turning  so  abruptly, 
that  it  is  easy  to  lose  one's  way.  It  was  probably 
so  built  to  afford  shade  and  coolness  in  the  torrid 


IfjG  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

summers,  and  in  times  of  war  and  conflict  to 
make  it  easier  of  defence.  On  every  side  are 
melancholy  traces  of  former  richness  and  grand- 
eur in  the  ornamented  doors,  iron  grilles,  bal- 
conies, heraldic  designs  in  stone  and  exuberantly 
sculptured  stonework.  But  it  has  a  pitiful,  hope- 
less and  disheartened  expression,  although  the 
restoration  of  the  Alcazar,  the  erection  of  the 
town  hall,  the  new  hotel  and  other  buildings, 
suggest  something  more  than  a  flickering  vital- 
ity. But  its  old-time  glory  has  departed.  Its 
churches  are  dismantled  and  ruined  ;  its  palaces 
fallen  into  "  innocuous  desuetude."  Perhaps 
though,  it  is  better  for  the  race,  for  the  Spain  of 
the  future,  that  "  Ichabod"  is  written  so  plainly 
upon  it.  As  its  streets  are  too  narrow  for  two 
vehicles  to  pass  one  another,  the  din  and  noise  of 
the  signals  or  warnings  from  the  various  corners  is 
sometimes  terrific.  One  is  kept  on  the  "  qui  vive  " 
the  whole  time,  for  there  is  something  picturesque, 
interesting  or  amusing  upon  every  side.  It  may 
be  the  street  is  a  vista  of  color  and  floral  decora- 
tions because  of  the  oft  repeated  balconies  being 
filled  to  overflowing  with  potted  plants  in  pro- 
fuse bloom,  or  perchance  in  some  secluded  and 
quiet  turn  a  young  soldier  with  scarlet  trousers  is 
seen  with  upturned  eyes  talking  softly  to  a  young 


Toledo  Cathedral  Choir. 


TOLEDO.  167 

girl  behind  the  small,  quaint  iron  grating  of  a 
window,  tritely  suggesting  a  nineteenth-century 
Romeo  and  Juliet.  While  carelessly  noting  the 
droll  yet  picturesque  incongruities  of  ancient 
affluence  and  present  squalor  upon  every  side, 
a  sudden  turning  revealed  a  vista  of  irregular 
houses  with  a  multitude  of  dark  and  shadowy 
balconies  with,  at  the  end,  peering  into  the 
blue  sky  and  flooded  with  sunlight,  the  great 
tower  and  spire  of  the  celebrated  Cathedral. 
The  exterior  is  disappointing,  being  a  medley  of 
styles,  but  the  west  front,  with  its  decoration  of 
statues,  floriated  ornaments  and  sculpturings,  is 
extremely  interesting  and  picturesque.  Way  up 
above  the  entrance  porch,  sculptured  in  stone,  is 
the  scene  of  the  Last  Supper — the  figures  being- 
seen  behind  a  table  which  also  constitutes  a  cor- 
nice in  front !  It  is  folly  to  expect  to  see  a  Spanish 
Cathedral  as  a  unique  whole,  for  they  are  almost 
invariably  crowded  or  hugged  or  half  obscured 
by  inferior  and  insignificant  buildings.  An  open 
plaza  here  affords  ever  a  fine  view  of  the  west 
front  and  an  attending  highly  ornamented  re- 
cessed court, — open  Gothic  work, — elegant  cupola, 
and  the  bell  tower  some  three  hundred  and  twenty- 
nine  feet  in  height,  with  fanciful  termination  of 
iron  rays,  cross,  etc.  Upon  the  opposite  side  is  a 


1GS  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

spacious  and  magnificent  court  faced  on  every 
side  by  superb,  lofty  Gothic  cloisters.  But  the  in- 
terior overwhelms,  with  its  vast  extent,  its  opulent 
details  of  form  and  color  and  its  solemn  and  im- 
pressive air.  Five  mighty  and  majestic  naves  (of 
graduated  heights)  stretch  away  in  the  solemn 
shadows  and  dim  religious  light  a  distance  of 
more  than  four  hundred  feet.  The  grand  central 
one,  whose  uplifted  roof  seems  like  a  firmament, 
is  blocked,  as  in  most  of  the  Spanish  Cathedrals, 
with  the  Choir,  a  solid  structure  with  outer  walls,  a 
mass  of  exquisite  arches,  delicate  marble  columns 
and  sumptuous  carvings,  yet  high  above  and  be- 
yond it  are  seen  the  apsidal  end,  the  odd  gilded  and 
colored  retablo — of  the  high  altar.  Looking  down 
the  other  naves,  one  sees  a  row  of  chapels  encir- 
cling with  peculiarly  beautiful  effect  the  apse,  with 
richly  carved  marble  screens  of  floriated  Gothic 
design  and  huge  gates  of  iron  and  gold,  and  every- 
where like  choicest  jewels  and  precious  stones,  the 
glorious  color  and  sheen  of  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  superb,  ancient,  stained-glass  windows.  The 
great  supporting  columns  rise  in  unbroken  lines 
— a  miniature  forest — and  bend  together  in  the 
vaulted  roof  like  graceful  and  stately  palms. 
As  for  six  long  centuries  all  that  wealth  and 
intelligent  taste  could  do  was  wrought  by 


TOLEDO.  109 

hundreds  of  artists,  there  is  a  bewildering  yet 
strangely  harmonious  amount  of  ornamentation. 
The  details  of  the  choir  are  peculiarly  beautiful 
— having  five  carved  wooden  stalls  with  columns 
of  delicately  tinted  marbles,  supporting  alabaster 
canopies !  It  being  Corpus  Christi  week,  the  altar 
frontals  were  of  superb  ancient  embroidery  in 
daintiest  designs  and  delicate  colors.  Between 
the  deep  chapel,  in  which  stands  the  high  altar 
before  a  tall  retablo  or  reredos,  gorgeous  with 
scenes  and  figures  carved  in  wood  and  gaudily 
colored  and  gilded,  and  two  costly  ormolu  pulpits 
upon  marble  standards  made  out  of  the  tombs  of 
a  discarded  favorite,  and  the  choir,  are  a  lofty 
screen  and  gates  of  ingeniously  wrought  iron. 
For  Corpus  Christi  week  only,  behind  the  altar 
were  hung  the  tent-cloths  of  our  Queen  Isabella, 
formed  of  great  squares  or  blocks  of  cloth  of  gold 
enriched  with  crests  and  heraldic  insignia.  The 
walls  which  enclose  this  chapel  display  exquisite 
screen  work  in  marble,  in  Gothic  designs,  sur- 
mounted with  groups  of  winged  angels.  In  every 
side-chapel,  almost,  there  is  some  sculpturing  or 
tomb  of  interest.  Beside  the  western  entrance 
is  a  spacious  chapel  with  a  cupola  or  dome  which 
is  of  great  interest,  for  it  is  the  only  place  in 
Spain,  or  in  the  world,  where  is  still  observed  the 


170  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

ritual  of  ,the  primitive  Christian  Goths  as  con- 
ducted before  Spain  accepted  the  Church  of  Rome. 
It  was  permitted  by  the  Moors,  was  forbidden 
under  Christian  kings,  and  finally  restored  by 
Cardinal  Ximenes.  It  is  called  the  "  Mozarabe 
Chapel,"  or,  in  English,  the  Muz-arabic.  A  simple 
altar,  lecterns  and  a  mosaic  and  fresco  upon  the 
wall  are  its  only  furnishings.  "  The  ritual  is  very 
simple  and  imposing,"  but  "  has  become  a  liturgic 
curiosity  which  must  sooner  or  later  disappear." 
The  Cathedral  or  its  site  has  the  usual  history  of 
alternate  Mosque  and  Moslem  rites  and  Cathedral 
and  Christian  worship.  Upon  our  second  visit 
some  great  upper  shutters  in  the  peak  of  the  roof 
were  open  and  a  flood  of  sunshine  filled  the  interior, 
making  the  great  columns  seem  like  alabaster, 
and  as  we  strolled  around  and  noted  the  lovely 
perspectives,  the  shadows  of  columns  and  arches 
and  the  large  elevated  stained  windows,  often 
through  marble  and  gilded  screens,  it  was  simply 
enchanting.  Just  then,  we  found  the  Treasury 
was  to  be  opened  for  a  prominent  Spanish  states- 
man and  family.  It  was  quite  a  "function,"  for 
six  canons  in  full  robes  stood  in  a  row,  each  hold- 
ing a  key.  An  official  took  one  after  another, 
unlocked  a  lock  and  returned  it.  Five  opened 
the  outer  gate  and  one  the  inner  door.  The  front- 


i  aof  <\>  nnu 


Toledo,  Cloister  San  Juan  de  los  Reyes. 


TOLEDO.  171 

als  and  robes  were  superb,  some  being  loaded 
with  coral,  and  others  magnificently  embroidered 
with  silver  and  studded  with  pearls  and  brilliants. 
There  were  also  jewelled  paraphernalia,  silver 
statuettes,  golden  vessels,  exquisite  crosses  and 
ornaments  glittering  with  gems,  and  in  the  centre 
of  the  room  a  tall,  cunningly-wrought,  gilded  tem- 
ple surmounted  by  a  cross  made  of  gold  brought 
from  America  by  Christopher  Columbus.  It  was 
not  very  satisfactory,  for  the  plate-glass  doors 
of  the  cases  were  not  opened,  and  the  custo- 
dian showed  the  whole  display  witli  the  light 
of  a  candle  stump  two  or  three  inches  in 
length ! 

Upon  a  terrace,  overlooking  a  most  striking 
view  of  the  gorge  or  ravine  made  by  the  river, 
and  of  some  old  ruins  and  a  fine  ancient  bridge 
with  tewer  at  either  end,  and  far  away  to  the 
distant  mountains,  stands  the  Church  of  San 
Juan  de  los  Reyes,  a  fine  specimen  of  Spanish 
floriated  Gothic,  upon  one  fi^ade  of  which  hang, 
high  upon  the  walls,  the  great  iron  manacles  and 
chains  of  Christian  prisoners  liberated  after  the 
conquest  of  the  Moors.  The  interior  is  fine,  being 
one  long  aisle  with  vaults  and  side  walls  pro- 
fusely decorated  with  arms  of  Spain,  and  in  a  cor- 
nice, or  covering,  a  deeply  indented  text.  Ad- 


172  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

joining  are  the  famous  cloisters,  always  seen  in 
pictures  as  more  or  less  ruined  and  covered  with 
ivy  and  vines.  But  as  they  are  now  in  process 
of  restoration  there  is  no  look  or  suggestion 
of  age.  They  are  magnificent,  and  surround  a 
square  court,  are  in  rich  Gothic  style,  two  stories 
in  height,  with  a  wealth  of  pinnacles.  The  in- 
terior is  most  profusely  decorated  with  sculptur- 
ings  of  fruit,  flowers,  heads,  leaves  and  animals, 
making  an  exquisite  picture  as  the  sun  strikes 
the  open  arches  or  floods  the  parterre  of  flowers 
which  fills  the  court. 

Adjacent  is  the  church  of  San  Maria  de  la 
Blanca,  a  building  which  has  in  its  time  been  a 
synagogue,  stables,  Avarehouse  and  a  Christian 
church  ;  and  now  that  its  working  days  are  done 
is  held  and  cared  for  by  a  society  for  the  preser- 
vation of  old  landmarks.  To  reach  it  we  passed 
from  the  street  into  a  little  garden  and  then  into 
an  interior  so  exquisite  and  chaste  we  all  ex- 
claimed with  delight.  A  space  of  eighty-one 
feet  by  sixty-three  is  divided  into  five  naves, 
an  effect  reminding  in  a  small  way  of  the  Mosque 
at  Cordova.  There  are  thirty-two  octagonal 
columns  with  Moorish  or  Byzantine  capitals  sup- 
porting horseshoe  arches;  and  above,  a  lovely 
Moorish  frieze  and  an  elaborate  ceiling  of  wood, 


TOLEDO.  173 

— a  very  dreamy  and  picturesque  effect.  Then 
we  walked  to  San  Cristo  de  la  Lux,  the  little 
ancient  Moorish  Mosque  only  twenty-two  feet 
square,  with  four  circular  columns  supporting 
sixteen  Moorish  arches  and  five  half  domes, — 
interesting  as  being  the  place  where  the  horse  of 
the  "Cid"  stopped  and  knelt,  and  the  wall 
opened  displaying  an  image  of  Christ  in  a  niche 
lighted  up  by  the  very  lamps  the  Gothic  Chris- 
tians used  centuries  before ! 

The  Alcazar  looms  up  so  formidably  and  mas- 
sively from  the  hightest  elevation  in  the  town, 
that  one  little  dreams  that  it  is  a  mere  shell — a 
fire  in  1886  having  gutted  it — leaving  only  the 
ponderous  and  stately  outer  walls  and  the  mag- 
nificent court.  This  ancient  palace  of  Spanish 
sovereigns  has  had  a  checkered  history,  begin- 
ning in  the  fifteenth  century  as  a  palace,  being 
burned  and  despoiled  in  various  wars,  turned 
into  a  silk  factory  for  employment  of  paupers, 
into  a  barracks  by  the  French,  and  now  into  a 
government  military  school  when  restorations 
ace  complete.  From  the  terrace  in  front  the 
view  is  very  fine,  looking  directly  beneath  upon 
the  pretty,  terraced  gardens  of  the  town,  off  upon 
a  ruined  castle  or  two,  and  farther  on  along  the 
course  of  the  sinuous,  yellow  Tagus  bending  to 


174  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  fro  across  the  verdant  plain,  and  far  away  to 
the  billowy  horizon  hills. 

We  could  not,  of  course,  leave  the  city  without 
seeing  a  "  Toledo  Blade,"  and  where  they  are 
made — the  royal  manufactory — about  a  mile 
away.  This  gave  us  not  only  an  interesting  drive, 
but  a  fine  view  of  the  old  walled  city  perched 
upon  the  rocks.  The  manufactory  is  an  immense 
one-storey  structure  where  all  the  arms  of  Spain 
are  made.  At  that  time  the  whole  plant  was  en- 
gaged in  the  manufacture  of  some  newly  patented 
German  bayonet.  In  one  room  we  were  shown 
some  genuine  Toledo  blades  and  what  could  be 
done  with  them.  With  incredible  and  perfect 
ease  these  beautiful,  glittering  swords  were  bent 
in  shape  of  a  letter  S,  or  twisted  and  turned  in 
socket-like  cases,  until  one  wondered  if  it  could  be 
steel  so  easily  handled.  In  other  rooms  we  saw 
the  delicate  and  beautiful  inlaying  of  steel  with 
beaten  gold.  The  view  of  Toledo  from  the  gate- 
way of  the  works  is  also  fine,  for  it  does  not  look 
like  a  ruined  or  impoverished  town  as,  high  above 
the  irregular  Moorish  walls,  stand,  proud  and  re- 
gal, the  olden  buildings,  burnished  with  golden 
sunshine.  We  returned  by  the  bridge  of  St. 
Martin  which,  with  arches  and  towers,  spans,  high 
in  air,  the  gorge  of  the  Tagus.  The  views  from  it, 


TOLEDO.  175 

and  from  every  point,  were  so  picturesque  that  we 
laughingly  declared  "  the  last  is  the  best."  What 
wonder,  as  we  reluctantly  turned  away  from  the 
majestic  and  exalted,  historical  and  picturesque 
city,  with  the  memory  of  Edinburgh  and  its 
gray  castle  upon  the  heights,  of  Perugia  lifted 
high  above  the  billowy  surrounding  country,  of 
the  Kremlin,  quaint  and  palatial,  flashing  in  the 
sunlight  as  seen  from  the  Sparrow  hills,  that  we 
enshrined  forever  "  Toledo,  the  crown  of  Spain," 
perched  upon  lordly  hilltops,  with  towers  and  an- 
cient walls  and  gateways,  as  we  saw  it  upon  those 
sunny  days  of  opening  June  ? 


"THE  LARGEST  VILLAGE  IX  SPAIX." 

MADRID,  as  one  of  the  principal  capitals  of 
Europe  and  a  centre  of  much  political  interest,  is 
well  worth  a  visit,  although  it  is  a  perpetual  dis- 
appointment to  those  who  ask  for  the  fish  of  the 
national,  the  typical  and  characteristic,  for  it 
gives  them  only  the  stone  of  the  commonplace 
and  the  cosmopolitan.  One  fresh  from  the  old 
cities,  so  delightfully  and  charmingly  Spanish, 
feels  at  once  that  the  dream  is  ended,  for  the  long 
vistas  of  apartment  houses,  uniform  and  monot- 
onous, and  the  rows  of  pretty,  detached  villas  with 
ornamental  grounds  in  the  newer  portion  of  the 
town, — such  as  are  rapidly  springing  up  in  the 
suburbs  of  almost  every  European  city,  from 
Antwerp  to  Naples, — are  French  in  character,  de- 
sign and  expression.  As  we  entered  the  spacious 
and  imposing  railway  station  at  half-past  eight 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  it  was  already  dark, 
after  a  four-hours'  journey  from  Toledo,  we  really 
had  no  "  first  impressions,"  for  we  had  seen  noth- 
ing of  the  approach  to  this,  the  most  strangely 
170 


"THE  LARGEST  VILLAGE  IN  SPAIN."     177 

located  city  in  Europe.  The  long  drive  to  the 
hotel  along  gayly  and  profusely  illuminated 
streets  was  most  brilliant;  but  unfortunately  we 
were  in  little  mood  for  the  modern  and  workaday 
world  and  life.  When  settled  we  found  our- 
selves facing  the  oft-quoted  "Puerto  del  Sol," 
which,  however,  is  not,  as  its  name  intimates,  a 
gate  of  the  Sun,  but  a  large  open  plaza,  with  a 
central  fountain,  modern  French  buildings,  a  great 
crowd  of  people,  and  apparently  all  the  street 
cars  in  the  city.  For  a  place  of  such  magnitude 
and  importance  there  are  but  few  sights  beyond 
the  city  itself,  but  the  Royal  Picture  Gallery,  a 
low,  extensive,  but  imposing  structure,  with  sur- 
rounding of  lovely  gardens,  houses  a  collection 
of  immortal  works,  which  alone  are  sufficient  to 
make  Madrid  a  shrine  to  which  art  lovers  and 
connoisseurs  for  all  time  will  continually  resort. 
The  collection  is  especially  rich  in  fine  specimens 
of  the  highest  and  best  period  of  Spanish  art,  af- 
fording opportunity  for  study  as  well  as  simple 
enjoyment,  since  each  artist  is  represented  by  a 
large  number  of  canvases.  Just  think  of  sixty- 
four  paintings  by  Velasquez  (seen  nowhere  else 
to  such  advantage),  forty-six  by  Murillo,  forty- 
three  by  Titian,  ten  by  Raphael,  sixty-two  by 
Rubens,  and  large  numbers  of  Tintorettos,  Paul 

12 


178  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

Veronese,  Teniers  and  the  celebrated  of  all  lands, 
under  one  roof,  and  some  idea  will  be  gained  of 
this  peerless,  and  magnificent  array,  considered 
by  art  critics  the  finest  in  the  world.  Perhaps  it 
is  well,  as  in  other  celebrated  galleries,  to  gather 
the  gems  in  two  beautiful  rooms,  yet  remembering 
the  educational  effect  of  the  grouping  of  the  works 
of  Murillo  in  the  Hermitage  at  St.  Petersburg,  one 
could  wish  that  those  of  each  artist  here  could  be 
seen  together.  Because  of  this  the  feeling  at 
first  is  of  disappointment,  for  the  pictures  are  so 
scattered  one  is  easily  confused.  The  Murillos 
are  most  enjoyable,  although  to  us  none  compared 
favorably  with  the  three  marvellous  creations  at 
Seville.  There  are  two  large  Immaculate  Con- 
ceptions that  are  wonderful  in  coloring  and  ex- 
pression. One  is  considered  by  many  authorities 
as  superior  to  that  in  the  Louvre.  While  very 
beautiful  it  lacks  the  dreamy,  mystical  character- 
istics of  the  latter.  The  lovely  face  is  innocence 
itself,  the  slight  wonder  in  the  eyes  marvellous, 
and  the  expression  of  perfect  surrender  of  "  do  with 
me  as  Thou  wilt "  very  fascinating.  The  atmos- 
phere is  peculiarly,  deliciously  soft  and  mellow 
and  suffused  with  gold.  As  usual,  in  the  tender 
yellow  sheen  appear  dimly  entrancing  faces  of 
cherubs.  Those  below,  holding  the  lily,  rose, 


"THE  LARGEST  VILLAGE  IX  SPAIN."     179 

palm  and  olive,  are  in  grace  of  form  and  attitude 
and  soft  delicacy  of  color  simply  exquisite.  The 
blue  drapery  of  the  Virgin  seems  floating  in  the 
air.  It  ceases  to  be  paint  as  you  gaze  at  it ;  it 
becomes  color  just  as  we  see  it  in  a  rainbow, 
trembling  and  seeming  as  if  at  any  moment  it 
might  dissolve  or  fade  away.  Xear  by  hangs 
the  other,  narrower,  but  of  about  same  size,  in 
which  the  cherubs  are  more  beautiful,  but  the 
head  of  the  Virgin  is  thrown  back  and  the  roll 
of  the  eyes  give  it  an  artificial  and  theatrical  ap- 
pearance. In  another  room  hangs  a  small  and 
most  fascinating  picture,  "  Los  Xinos  de  la  Con- 
cha," the  children  of  the  shell,  in  which  the  In- 
fant Christ  is  giving  the  child  St.  John  a  drink 
from  a  scollop  shell.  A  background  of  verdure 
throws  these  two  dear  little  plump  figures  out  in 
a  most  life-like  way,  while  the  color  is  dreamy 
and  soft,  the  fascinating  peculiarity  of  his  last,  or 
"  vaporoso,"  style.  Close  by  is  another  "  Immac- 
ulate Conception"  by  him,  showing  only  about 
one-half  of  the  figure  and  a  large  crescent  and  an 
earnest,  wondering  face,  which  holds  one  as  by 
a  spell.  Murillo's  Madonnas  all  have  the  same 
face — that  of  a  Spanish  peasant — with  draperies 
of  rich  red  and  blue.  His  child  faces  are  simply 
those  of  infantile  innocence,  without  any  sugges- 


180  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

tion  of  mystical  Divinity  showing  through  them. 
This  is  particularly  so  in  the  celebrated  "Pajari- 
to,"  or  Holy  Family,  in  which  the  child  holds  up 
a  little  bird  in  play  with  a  dog.  The  child  face 
is  exquisite,  but  it  is  only  a  child  of  the  country. 
They  all,  for  spirituality,  compare  unfavorably 
with  either  the  "  San  Sisto  "  or  the  "  Seggiola  "  of 
Raphael.  One  cannot  pass  even  a  couple  of  days 
within  the  charmed  enclosure  of  these  gallery 
walls  without  being  deeply  impressed  and  en- 
thralled with  the  strength  and  power  in  the  pic- 
tures of  Yalasquez,  to  be  studied  here  as  no- 
where else  in  the  world.  He  was  probably  the 
greatest  portrait  painter  the  world  ever  saw. 
His  faces  are  marvellous,  and  when  he  puts  motion 
in  the  figures  it  is  there,  and  you  feel  the  figures 
will  be  out  of  sight  in  less  than  no  time.  There 
is  a  portrait,  "  Prince  Baltasar,"  a  boy  mounted 
upon  a  pony  coming  towards  you,  before  which 
you  instinctively  stand  aside  lest  he  run  you 
down  !  The  drapery  fairly  floats  in  the  air  and 
the  pony  seems  springing  from  the  frame.  By 
him  also,  in  the  "  Forge  of  Vulcan,"  tremendous  in 
drawing.  His  "Topers  "  really  escapes  coarse- 
ness and  vulgarity  by  its  wonderful  expression 
and  coloring.  The  much  praised  portrait  of 
Philip  IV.  we  did  not  seem  to  grasp,  save  the 


liTHE  LARGEST  VILLAGE  IN  SPAIN/'     181 

horse,  which  is  remarkable.  Titian's  Charles  V. 
on  horseback  is  called  the  finest  equestrian  por- 
trait in  the  world,  surpassing  that  of  Philip  IV. 
of  Valasquez.  It  had  been  taken  to  a  basement 
room  to  be  copied  for  the  Austrian  Ambassador, 
but  we  succeeded  in  seeing  it.  The  face,  pale 
and  ill,  is  wonderfully  determined  in  expression, 
but  we  wondered  if  we  would  have  suspected  it 
was  the  finest  in  the  world !  Raphael's  "  El 
Piismo  de  Sicilia"  was  disappointing  in  that  the 
faces  were  like  terra  cotta  in  tint  and  hardness, 
although  the  expression  of  them,  the  beauty  of 
the  figures  and  the  gracefulness  of  their  attitudes, 
were  delightful.  His  "  Madonna  of  the  Fish"  is 
lovely ;  his  "  la  Perla "  very  dark  and  heavy ; 
his  "la  Rosa"  a  very  charming  and  graceful 
grouping,  and  his  "  Madonna  of  the  Lizard  "  beau- 
tiful and  fascinating,  yet  none  have  the  sublime 
power  of  the  peerless  San  Sisto.  The  Rubens' 
are,  of  course,  gross  and  overfed  in  figure,  but 
with  his  irresistibly  delightful  rose-leaf  flesh 
tints  and  colors.  The  Van  Dycks  are  very  fine, 
One  room  is  filled  with  the  works  of  Goya,  a 
Spanish  master  not  often  met.  One,  a  study  for 
a  family  group,  of  a  Queen  in  a  lace  robe,  is  a 
marvellous  picturing  of  airy,  transparent  black 
lace.  The  whole  collection,  in  fact,  is  so  fine  and 


182  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

numerous  that  a  brief  visit  is  hopelessly  bewilder- 
ing. In  the  Academy  of  San  Fernando  hang 
three  large  and  superb  Murillos,  alone  worthy  the 
journey  to  Madrid.  All  were  carried  to  Paris  as 
spoils  of  war,  but  returned  to  Madrid  instead  of 
Seville  from  whence  they  were  taken.  One,  a 
very  large  and  semi-circular  canvas,  is  called 
"  The  Dream."  Nothing  could  be  more  simple  in 
composition  or  more  exquisite  in  dreamy  color. 
A  man  sits  in  a  chair,  leaning  upon  a  table  to 
one  side,  asleep.  Even  the  hang  of  his  flesh  and 
the  roll  of  eyeballs  betoken  profound  slumber. 
Near  by,  sitting  upon  a  low  seat,  is  a  woman  with 
lips  slightly  parted,  and  at  her  feet  a  tiny  pet 
dog,  also  asleep.  It  represents  the  dream  of  the 
Roman  patrician  which  resulted  in  the  building 
of  St.  Maggiore  in  Rome.  In  the  air  appears 
the  lovely  Virgin  and  child,  and  to  one  side, 
through  an  opening,  the  miraculous  fall  of  snow. 
The  dull  reds  and  blues  of  the  sleepers  and  the 
soft  white  and  blue  of  the  Virgin  group  are  de- 
lightfully delicate  and  pleasing.  The  expression 
of  the  whole  picture  is  that  of  the  perfect  aban- 
don of  sleep.  The  three  forms  sleep,  the  man 
so  thoughtfully,  the  woman  so  peacefully,  and  the 
little  dog,  animal-like,  just  sleeps  and  nothing 
more.  Opposite  hangs  the  companion  picture, 


"THE  LARGEST  VILLAGE  IX  SPAIN/'     183 

in  which  the  same  couple  are  telling  the  dream 
to  the  Pope.  It  would  be  finer,  if  the  other  dear 
charmer  was  away.  Both  hung  originally  in 
Santa  Maria  la  Blanca  in  Seville.  In  the  same 
room  hangs  his  celebrated  St.  Elizabeth  of  Hun- 
gary feeding  the  lepers,  taken  from  the  Hospital 
de  la  Caridad  in  Seville.  It  is  a  most  powerful 
work,  a  strange  mixture  of  the  beautiful  and  re- 
pulsive. 

Second  only  to  the  galleries  in  interest  is  the 
"Armory,"  a  long,  fine  room,  upon  the  open 
plaza  of  the  palace,  in  which  are  crowded  most 
superb  arms,  suits  of  armor,  banners,  military 
trappings,  historical  curios  and  jewels  and  many 
mementoes  of  Spain's  royal  and  heroic  dead,  not 
the  least  interesting  being  the  suit  worn  by 
Queen  Isabella  at  the  siege  of  Granada.  The 
royal  palace  is  simply  enormous,  forming  a 
square  building  some  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
one  feet  on  every  side,  and  walls  a  hundred  feet 
in  height,  most  peculiarly  located  upon  the  edge 
of  a  steep  ravine.  The  court  being  in  residence, 
only  the  chapel  royal  could  be  seen — a  great, 
gaudily  and  vulgarly  gilded  and  decorated  room, 
with  a  private  box  on  one  side  for  the  family. 
The  view  of  the  distant  Guadarrama  mountains, 
icy  and  cold  with  perpetual  snows,  is  very  fine. 


184  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

The  one  outlook  at  Madrid  which  charmed  us 
most  was  that  from  a  terrace  or  log-gia  opening 
upon  the  great,  gravelled  plaza  to  the  north  of  the 
palace.  At  this  time  of  the  year  the  verdancy 
was  exquisite,  directly  beneath  us  a  ravine  with 
numerous  trees,  everywhere  bare,  undulating 
country,  a  billowy  expanse  of  emerald ;  and  far 
away  in  the  soft  haze  of  distance  the  soft  pearly 
and  opalescent  crests  of  mountain  heights.  The 
situation  of  Madrid  in  the  midst  of  bare  and  des- 
olate hills  is  most  peculiar  and  unattractive  and 
is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  Charles  V.  was 
a  martyr  to  the  gout  and  found  relief  in  its  sin- 
gularly contradictory  climate.  Although,  some 
twenty-four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  level,  it 
is  said  to  be  insufferably  hot  in  summer  and  in- 
tolerably cold  in  winter.  A  Spanish  writer  has 
said,  "The  air  of  Madrid  is  subtle.  It  kills  a 
man  and  does  not  put  out  a  candle." 

The  day  after  our  arrival  was  the  Sabbath  ! 
The  windows  of  the  hotel  overlooked  the  prin- 
cipal thoroughfare  opening  from  the  Puerto  del 
Sol.  In  the  early  part  of  the  afternoon  the  nar- 
row way  was  thronged  with  a  crowd  of  hand- 
some carriages,  vehicles  of  all  descriptions  and 
pedestrians  passing  out  of  the  city  toward  the 


"THE  LARGEST  VILLAGE  IX  SPAIN."     185 

Bull  Ring  like  a  great  receding  wave.  Late  in 
the  day  it  all  flowed  back  again  like  a  tidal  wave. 
A  momentary  touch  of  color  and  brilliancy  was 
imparted  to  the  scene  by  the  gayly-attired  Pica- 
dors upon  horseback,  and  in  an  open  carriage 
four  Matadors  gorgeously  dressed  in  rich-colored 
costumes,  resplendent  with  a  profusion  of  silver 
lace,  embroidery  and  spangles.  They  were  very 
merry  and  laughed  and  chatted  as  gayly  as  if  poor 
Espartero,  the  second  best  Matador  in  the  land, 
had  not  passed  along  that  way  just  one  week  be- 
fore as  confident  and  unconcerned  to  come  not 
back  again,  for  he  was  carried  dead  from  the 
Ring  in  the  sight  of  thousands,  literally  butchered 
to  make  a  Spanish  holiday!  But  we  saw  them 
all  return,  and  word  was  passed  along  that  it  had 
been  a  very  tame  affair,  since  the  Picadors  did 
not  even  lose  a  horse !  Perhaps  it  is  hardly  fair 
to  sweepingly  condemn  that  which  one  has  not 
seen,  but  from  the  reports  of  fellow-tourists  it  is 
impossible  to  comprehend  how  this  familiarity 
with  constant  risk  of  human  life,  and  this  brutal 
mutilation  and  cruel  death  of  dumb  animals,  can 
be  otherwise  than  demoralizing  and  deadening  to 
the  finer  and  nobler  sensibilities  of  the  individual. 
But  how  a  custom,  inwrought  with  the  religious 
pageants  and  fetes  of  the  present  church  and  the 


180  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

usages  of  generations,  is  to  be  banished,  is  a  prob- 
lem of  the  future  ;  for  at  present  there  is  little  or 
no  disposition  to  attack  it. 

Earlier  in  the  day,  in  an  upper  chamber,  we 
listened  for  a  half  hour  to  the  service  in  the 
Spanish  Protestant  church.  All  along  our  route 
we  had  been  much  interested  in  what  our  friend, 
long  a  resident  of  the  country,  told  us  of  the 
night,  of  the  Missions  here  and  there — bright 
Evangels  let  us  hope  of  a  coming  day.  There 
were  perhaps  one  hundred  and  fifty  adults  pres- 
ent, and  about  one  hundred  scholars.  Although 
we  understood  not  a  word,  we  knew  when  the 
Creed  was  fervently  recited  and  the  Lord's  Prayer 
reverently  repeated.  In  their  faces  was  some- 
thing living,  vital  and  satisfying  we  had  not  seen 
in  any  Cathedral  throng.  We  wondered  if  this 
was  not  the  little  leaven  which,  in  the  Master's 
own  good  time,  will  leaven  the  whole  lump, — a 
portion  of  the  unfolding  of  the  heavenly  peace  on 
earth,  good  will  toward  men,  that  is  certain  some 
day  to  make  the  waste  places  of  this  goodly  land 
glad! 


"THE  EIGHTH  WONDER  OF  THE  WORLD." 

WITH  scarcely  a  regret,  but  with  an  ever- 
haunting  remembrance  of  the  lovely  pictures,  we 
turned  away  from  Madrid,  and  in  one  hour  and  a 
half,  owing  to  the  high  rate  of  speed  upon  the 
Spanish  railways,  stood  in  the  shadow  of  that 
huge  enigma  of  combined  palace,  monastery, 
church  and  tomb  known  as  "  the  Escorial,"  some 
thirty  miles  distant  from  the  metropolis.  Had  it 
been  autumn  or  winter  the  intervening  country 
would  have  been,  probably,  cheerless  and  desolate. 
But  as  much  of  it  was  verdant  with  turf  or  golden 
with  ripening  grain,  the  wild  flowers,  in  red,  blue, 
yellow  and  purple,  so  profuse  and  abundant,  the 
great,  white,  single  roses  and  the  yellow  gorse  so 
frequent,  we  thought  it  really  charming.  The 
blood-red  poppies  never  ceased  to  excite  our 
wonder  and  admiration,  because  of  the  extent  or 
space  they  often  covered,  as  with  a  scarlet  cloth. 
The  strangest  feature  was  the  absence  of  trees. 
The  soil  looked  gray  and  yellow,  and  very  poor, 

and  along  the  railway  is  tilled  and  worked  for 

187 


188  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

all,  and  more,  than  it  is  worth.  For  awhile  after 
leaving  Madrid,  we  had  lovely  views  of  the  opal- 
escent and  amethystine  snow-crested  range  of  the 
Sierra  Guadarramas,  slumbering  mistily  and 
phantom-like  in  the  sunshine.  A  smart  drive  up 
the  hill  from  the  station  brought  us  to  a  com- 
fortable little  hotel  close  to  the  colossal  group  of 
buildings  which  constitute  the  famous  "  Escorial." 
Every  account  we  had  read  of  it  had  given  us  a 
picture  of  desolation,barrenness  and  gloom,  so  that 
our  first  impression  of  it  upon  that  lovely  June 
day,  when  the  tawny  walls  seemed  to  hold  and 
fairly  glow  with  the  sunshine,  was  an  unusually 
cheerful  one.  It  not  only,  however,  overwhelms 
and  dominates  with  its  "bigness,"  but  it  dwarfs 
all  surrounding  structures  into  pettiness  and  lit- 
tleness. The  great,  gray  bounding  hills  alone 
seem  of  a  piece  and  in  harmony  with  it !  This 
huge  extensive  building  at  the  foot  of  bare  and 
desolate  hills,  with  a  fussy  little  village  hugging 
it,  with  surrounding  of  bleak,  wreird  and  strange 
landscape,  seems  out  of  tune,  and  like  a  night- 
mare, rather  than  an  outgrowth  of  human  life. 
But  that  day  the  walls  were  so  suffused,  the 
neighboring  hills  so  like  glistening  green  bronze, 
and  the  town  gardens  so  fresh  and  fair,  that  the 
exterior,  at  least,  lost  much  of  its  sombreness, 


"THE  EIGHTH  WONDER  OF  THE  WORLD."    189 

coldness  and  gloom.  Yet  it  is  all  very  morbid 
rather  than  healthful  in  inspiration  and  expres- 
sion. The  first  view  as  we  approached  from  the 
hotel  was  of  the  south  fa9ade,  which  appeared 
like  a  huge  barrack,  being  a  long  monotonous 
structure  with  pitched  roof  and  dormers.  The 
huge  pile  forms  an  outer  parallelogram  of  seven 
hundred  and  forty-four  by  five  hundred  and  eighty 
feet,  and  the  plan  follows  the  lines  of  a  gridiron 
in  honor  of  St.  Lawrence.  Within  the  outer  en- 
closure of  lofty,  ponderous,  four-storey  buildings, 
are  some  ten  courts,  but  one  only — that  of  the 
Monastery,  with  a  central  temple  and  surround- 
ing garden — possesses  any  beauty.  As  is  well 
known,  the  group  comprises  a  monastery,  palace 
and  church,  all  upon  a  scale  of  unusual  immens- 
ity. We  entered  at  the  grand  portal  on  the 
west  front,  which  is  directly  opposite  the  central 
entrance  to  the  church,  upon  the  other  side  of  an 
immense  open  court,  the  Court  of  the  Kings.  We 
were  told  that  at  the  funeral  obsequies  of  the  late 
king  the  body  laid  in  state  surrounded  by  royal 
pomp  and  heraldic  emblazonings  in  this  vestibule, 
while  the  spacious  court,  richly  hung  in  black,  was 
filled  with  dignitaries  in  uniforms,  listening  to 
the  funeral  Mass  said  in  a  tiny  chapel  of  peculiar 
sanctity,  immediately  over  the  central  doorway 


100  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

of  the  portico  to  the  church.  Anything  more 
mournful  or  sombre  can  hardly  be  pictured. 
Crossing  the  court  we  entered  the  immense  sanc- 
tuary, said  to  be  the  fourth  largest  in  size  in  the 
world,  and  instinctively  paused,  overawed  by  the 
grandeur  of  its  simplicity,  the  sublimity  of  its 
vastness  and  the  solemnity  of  its  sombreness. 
All  is  granite,  cold,  gray,  unsculptured  granite, 
unrelieved  by  color  or  gold  save  at  the  far  eastern 
or  high  altar  end,  where  both  blaze  in  lavish  rich- 
ness combined  with  sumptuous  colored  marbles. 
There  is  an  awful  loneliness,  a  stern  dearth  of 
sympathy  and  an  absolute  lack  of  pitifulness  in 
its  expression,  in  fact  nothing  one  looks  and 
yearns  for  in  the  holy  temple  of  the  Most  High. 
It  does  not  suggest  the  soul  bowing  in  glad  rec- 
ognition and  grateful  worship  before  its  Maker, 
but  rather,  shorn  of  its  self-righteousness  and 
filled  with  morbid  despair,  lying  discouraged  be- 
cause it  can  offer  no  price.  Xot  a  soul  was  in  the 
vast  structure  but  ourselves;  not  a  sound  broke 
the  awful  stillness  and  oppressive  solitariness 
but  our  own  footfalls.  The  flickering  taper  in 
pendant  lamp  before  the  high  altar  alone  sug- 
gested hope,  for  it  told  of  priceless  sacrifice  and 
holy  presence.  Yet  in  the  multitude  of  long  sim- 
ple lines,  the  cross-like  form  and  the  stately, 


"THE  EIGHTH  WONDER  OF  THE  WORLD/'    191 

mighty  dome,  it  is  wonderfully  fine  and  impres- 
sive, although  deadly  chill  and  cold.  Standing 
there,  one  could  not  help  comparing  it  with  all  the 
color  and  the  dome  filled  with  saints  and  prophets 
in  St.  Peter's,  the  solemn  arches  and  vistas  of 
St.  Paul's  and  the  gold  and  sheen  amid  the  dark- 
ness of  St.  Isaac's,  and  feel  that  this  was  hard,  dry 
and  cold.  The  high  altar  is  approached  by  mag- 
nificent steps  of  polished  chocolate  marble. 
Above  the  altar  of  costly  marbles  and  glittering 
jasper,  rises  a  very  fine  and  rich  retablo  some 
ninety-three  feet  in  height,  a  sort  of  reredos,  of 
storey  after  storey  with  cornices  and  columns  and 
spaces  or  panels  filled  with  paintings,  the  details 
of  which  we  could  not  distinguish  in  the  gloom. 
Upon  either  side  are  doors  opening  into  rooms — 
royal  oratories — above  which  are  open  galleries 
with  massive  columns  and  strange,  kneeling,  gilt, 
bronze  and  colored  effigies  of  Charles  V.  and 
Philip  II.  and  their  families.  Numerous  chapels 
open  from  sides  of  the  church,  but  they  were 
very  dark  and  of  little  interest,  save  one  which 
is  the  temporary  resting-place  of  the  young 
Queen  Mercedes,  the  first  wife  of  the  late  king. 
In  the  hall-like  sacristy  we  saw  the  antique  and 
wonderful  embroideries  which  were  sent  with 
other  historical  relics  to  our  Columbian  exhibi- 


]<j;2  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

tion.  Once,  this  was  very  rich  in  sacred  vessels, 
as  is  proven  by  the  French  taking  away  sixty 
loads  of  silver  vessels  and  ornaments.  Even  now 
it  possesses  a  small  Custodia  or  receptacle  for 
the  Host,  fashioned  of  gold  and  precious  stones, 
valued  at  twenty-five  thousand  dollars.  Then 
we  passed  down  a  heavy  staircase  of  stone  and 
came  to  a  portal  of  richest  marble  and  golden 
bronze,  the  entrance  to  the  Royal  crypt.  The 
side  walls,  staircases  and  round  arched  ceilings 
were  of  polished  marbles  of  various  kinds  and 
tints.  Perhaps  one  half  of  the  way  down  appears 
upon  either  side  a  door.  The  attendant,  with 
that  perfect  straightforwardness,  inseparable 
from  their  routine,  announced  "  these  are  the  rot- 
ting rooms ! "  In  other  words,  the  bodies  of  the 
Royal  family  are  deposited  here  for  ten  years 
until  entirely  decomposed,  and  then  the  remains 
of  the  kings,  and  such  of  the  queens  as  have  been 
mothers  of  kings,  are  laid  in  the  costly  marble 
sarcophaghi  in  the  crypt,  while  the  remains  of 
all  others  are  taken  to  a  superb  suite  of  burial 
apartments  in  another  portion  of  the  building. 
At  the  foot  of  the  staircase  is  entered  the  Royal 
crypt,  a  large,  octagonal,  domed  room,  some  forty- 
six  feet  in  diameter,  directly  under  the  high  altar 
of  the  church,  so  that  Mass  can  be  said  over  the 


"THE  EIGHTH  WONDER  OF  THE  WORLD."    I«j3 

remains  of  the  kings,  every  day.  Most  writers 
speak  of  it  as  cold,  gloomy  and  repulsive.  But 
as  it  was  a  glorious  sunny  day  the  strange,  sumpt- 
uous and  sombre  apartment  was  full  of  light 
and  upon  every  side  glittered  the  richest  polished 
marbles  and  jasper  and  gorgeous  but  vulgar 
ornamentations  of  gilded  bronze.  All  around, 
one  above  another  are  deep  niches  or  alcoves,  in 
which  lie  at  full  length  superb  sarcopaghi  of  gray 
polished  marble  with  bronze  or  gilded  feet  and 
plates.  There  were  twenty-six  or  eight  of  them 
and  only  seven  occupied.  The  effect  is  peculiar 
and  displeasing,  but  the  richness  and  magnifi- 
cence of  the  details  could  not  well  be  increased, 
although  the  taste  of  it  could  be  improved.  The 
lesser  lights  of  royalty  are  cared  for  in  a  suite  of 
nine  or  ten  rooms  superbly  floored,  walled  and 
ceiled  in  white  marble,  wherein  are  costly  tombs, 
with  garniture  of  gold  and  enrichments  of  colored 
stones,  sculptured  effigies  and  adornments,  all  so 
clean,  fresh  and  pure,  that  flooded  with  sunshine, 
the  effect  was  very  beautiful.  But  like  the  whole 
structure  it  was  bitter  cold,  and  we  passed  through 
it  all  with  our  warmest  wraps  closely  buttoned 
to  our  throats.  Up  into  the  gigantic  and  massive 
church  again  and  to  the  Choir,  a  gallery  over  the 
main  entrance,  but  really  an  immense  room  with 
13 


194  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

rich  stalls  of  wood,  a  huge  lectern,  with  enormous 
books  and  quaint  chandelier  of  glass,  with  encir- 
cling peacocks,  and  way  off  in  one  corner  the 
stall  of  Philip  II.,  which  could  be  quietly  entered 
from  an  adjoining  room,  the  very  spot  where  he 
was  kneeling  when  a  messenger  announced  the 
victory  of  Lepanto.  It  is  said  he  received  the 
terrible  news  with  unchanged  countenance  and 
resumed  his  prayers.  We  were  glad,  after  visit- 
ing the  tiny  chapel  over  the  grand  entrance 
(decorated  with  a  large  crucifix  by  Benvenuto 
Cellini),  where  the  funeral  Mass  was  said  for 
Alfonso  XII.,  to  get  into  the  sunshine  again. 
Later  we  passed  through  the  rooms  of  the  Palace, 
now  shown  to  visitors,  a  long  suite  made  un- 
usually bright  and  cheerful  by  Spanish  tapestries, 
after  Goya,  Teniers  and  others,  and  draperies  of 
silk  and  satin,  and  much  charming  furniture  and 
a  great  multitude  of  old-fashioned  clocks,  a  fad 
of  Charles  II.  and  Ferdinand  VII.  Then  we 
visited  the  most  interesting  portion  of  all,  the 
suite  of  four  or  five  rooms  occupied  by  Philip  II., 
who  called  this  stupendous  structure  into  exist- 
ence. They  were  very  small  and  with  low  ceil- 
ings, plain  and  desolate  to  bareness,  with  the 
chair  he  used  as  a  throne  and  two  rests  for  his 
lame  limb,  and  the  desk  at  which  he  sat  writing 


"  THE  EIGHTH  WONDER  OF  THE  WORLD."    195 

when  told  of  the  total  destruction  of  the  Armada. 
It  is  related  that  "  not  a  muscle  of  his  face 
moved."  He  only  said,  "  I  thank  God  for  having 
given  me  the  means  of  bearing  such  a  loss  with- 
out embarrassment  and  power  to  fit  out  another 
fleet  of  equal  size ;  a  stream  can  afford  to  waste 
some  water  when  its  source  is  not  dried  up." 
His  sleeping-room  was  diminutive  and  window- 
less,  and  opening  from  it  was  his  oratory  or 
chapel,  the  windows  of  which  look  upon  the  high 
altar  of  the  great  church,  where,  on  Sunday, 
September  30,  1598,  at  the  age  of  seventy-two,  he 
died  with  his  face  turned  towards  the  effigy  of 
his  father  and  the  high  altar.  The  account  of 
his  death  is  horrible.  "  For  fifty-three  days  he 
lay,  like  Herod,  consumed  by  his  own  vermin, 
haunted  with  doubts  whether  his  bloody  bigotry, 
the  supposed  merit  of  his  life,  was  not,  after  all, 
a  damning  crime."  A  visit  to  the  great  library 
was  interesting,  although  its  fifty-six  thousand 
volumes  were  turned  so  that  the  cut  gilded  edges 
were  to  the  front,  and  its  gaudy,  meretricious 
ceiling  was  sadly  marred  by  roof  leakage.  We 
missed  the  pictures  in  the  monastery,  owing  to 
an  error  of  our  guide  as  to  the  hour  of  closing. 
This  fellow  was  quite  a  character,  blandly  re- 
marking when  we  engaged  him  that  our  "thanks 


19(5  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIX. 

would  be  sufficient  recompense,  although  his 
usual  price  was  ten  pesetas  a  day  !  "  We  walked 
in  the  cloisters  and  looked  in  upon  the  great 
court  of  the  Evangelists  with  its  temple,  statues 
and  box  borders,  and  from  various  eastern  win- 
dows looked  down  upon  the  surrounding  terraces, 
with  fish-ponds  and  English  elms  and  heavy  box 
borders  in  stiff  geometrical  lines  and  patterns, 
with  not  a  leaf  or  flower,  but  all  as  gaunt  and 
cold  as  the  great  pile  itseif.  Then  we  gladly 
went  out  of  this  embodiment  of  man's  coldness 
and  morbidness  into  God's  glowing  sunlight,  and 
taking  a  carriage  drove  back  of  the  town  by 
orchards  of  oaks  and  through  green  fields  to  the 
foot  of  a  distant  hill  and  walked  to  a  rocky  height 
where,  carved  in  the  rock,  is  the  seat  so  often 
occupied  by  Philip,  while  watching  the  slow 
building  of  the  Escorial  a  mile  and  a  half  away. 
It  commanded  a  sweeping  view  of  the  bare  and 
lonely  hills,  the  mighty  architectural  pile  and  the 
weird,  strange  country,  a  billowy  stretch  of  green 
to  the  horizon,  while,  way  off  in  the  distance,  in 
the  blue  haze,  like  a  mirage,  trembled  the  white- 
crested  range  of  the  Sierra  Guadarramas.  Sit- 
ting upon  this  lonely  height,  one  in  hopeless  be- 
wilderment gazes  at  th£  great  enigmatical  pile  in 
the  distance,  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,, 


"  THE  EIGHTH  WONDER  OF  THE  WORLD."    197 

erected  in  twenty  years,  which  so  dominates 
the  entire  scene  as  to  well-nigh  occupy  the  whole 
thought.  A  thank-offering  for  victories  won,  a 
filial  provision  for  regal  burial,  it  is  also  a 
"whited  sepulchre,"  a  lurid  memento  of  Philip 
II.  of  which  some  one  has  truthfully  said,  "  The 
man  explains  the  edifice  and  the  edifice  is  a  pic- 
ture of  the  man." 


A  SPANISH  UNIVERSITY  TOWN. 

WHEX  the  enthusiastic  tourist  decides  to  visit 
the  decaying,  interesting,  historical  cities  north  of 
Madrid,  unless  inured  to  extreme  physical  fatigue 
and  strain,  indifferent  as  to  accommodations  and 
unaffected  by  inferior  diet,  his  trouble  will  begin. 
For,  owing  to  the  infrequency  of  trains,  it  seems 
impossible  to  visit  even  one  without  change  of 
trains,  and  long  waits  at  forlorn  junctions  or 
stations  in  the  still  watches  of  the  night,  or  an 
arrival  ere  the  breaking  of  the  dawn  when  it  is 
about  as  easy  to  get  lodgment  at  the  wretched 
hotels  as  to  effect  an  entrance  into  a  beleag- 
uered city.  Reluctantly  we  relinquished  several 
places  of  interest,  simply  because  we  were  un- 
equal to  the  continuous  strain.  But  we  could 
not  give  up  Burgos — and  we  drew  a  decided  line 
at  Salamanca — with  its  multiform  attractions  of 
Cathedral,  old  palace  with  walls  adorned  with 
scollop  shells,  the  ancient  University  and  the  his- 
toric battle-field.  So  one  evening  at  nine  o'clock 
we  took,  at  Escorial,  the  "train  de  luxe,"  the  Paris 


A  SPANISH  UNIVERSITY  TOWN.          199 

express,  and  for  four  hours  whirled  through  nu- 
merous tunnels  and  across  the  open  country  in  the 
darkness,  until  at  one-thirty  A.  M.  we  alighted 
at  Medina,  a  junction  or  something,  where  was  a 
waiting-room  so  dingy,  ill-lighted  and  unsavory, 
and  a  cafe  or  restaurant  with  atmosphere  so  blue 
and  dense  with  tobacco  fumes,  that  we  preferred 
to  pass  the  time  of  our  sojourning  in  walking 
upon  the  platform  in  the  still  night  air.  At  two- 
thirty  o'clock  the  train  that  was  to  bear  us  on 
appeared.  Of  course,  every  one  was  fixed  for  the 
night  and  asleep,  or  pretended  to  be,  so  that  it  was 
quite  a  feat  to  distribute  and  locate  our  party  of 
six.  The  remainder  of  the  night  passed  without 
incident  save  that  the  air  grew  bitter  cold.  Be- 
tween four  and  five  we  reached  the  station  for 
Salamanca,  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  town. 
To  our  dismay  we  learned  it  was  Examination 
week  at  the  University  and  that  the  town  was  full. 
We  hurried  ahead  of  the  "  'busses "  to  the  prin- 
cipal hotel  of  the  place,  an  old  palace  facing  a 
square.  The  perfect  "sang-froid"  with  which 
the  official  in  charge  showed  us,  a  party  of  six, 
the  only  unoccupied  apartment,  a  room  upon  the. 
ground  floor,  with  one  small  window  and  a  single 
bed,  the  English  language  is  unequal  to  portray- 
ing, a  kodak  could  alone  have  done  it  justice !  In 


200  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

a  small  but  characteristic  hotel  in  a  neighbor- 
ing street  we  were  at  last  made  fairly  comfort- 
able, being  in  a  mood  to  accept  what  we  could  get. 
What  mattered  it,  for  were  we  not  in  historic 
Salamanca?  A  most  interesting  city  it  proved, 
although  literally  a  pitiful  ruin  with  just  enough 
life  to  keep  going.  In  the  fourteenth  century  it 
was  a  centre  of  learning  and  ten  thousand  stu- 
dents flocked  to  its  college  halls,  but  now  scarcely 
five  hundred  come  to  its  sacred  feasts.  The 
French  dealt  it  a  cruel  and  fatal  blow,  when,  for 
purposes  of  military  defence  they  destroyed  out- 
lying monasteries,  churches  and  colleges,  leaving 
the  fine  old  city  forever  crippled.  Although  mel- 
ancholy and  pathetic  in  expression,  it  is  altogether 
so  interesting  and  picturesque,  it  would  be  a  mis- 
take to  pass  it  by.  Everywhere  in  most  graphic 
and  often  droll  contrast,  appear  evidences  of  for- 
mer wealth  and  elegance  and  of  present  squalor 
and  wretchedness.  Upon  venerable  and  stately 
fa9ades,  worn  and  disfigured  by  centuries  of  vicis- 
situdes, will  frequently  be  seen,  too  high  to  be 
injured  save  by  the  elements,  escutcheons  with 
crest  or  insignia  of  some  noble  family,  possibly 
now  extinct,  beautifully  and  boldly  sculptured  in 
yellow  stone,  while  the  windows  reveal  them  the 
abodes  of  the  most  abject  and  humble  poor. 


A  SPANISH  UNIVERSITY  TOWN.  201 

Again,  the  most  forlorn  tenement  will  often  have 
a  portal  worthy  a  palace  entrance,  and  upon  roofs 
of  neglected  and  disintegrating  structures  above 
the  cornice  will  be  seen  a  cresting  or  balustrade 
carved  in  stone,  often  of  most  grotesque  or  exqui- 
site design.  From  our  windows  we  looked  upon 
a  corner  building  opposite,  the  top  storey  of  which 
had  originally  shown  a  tasty  little  loggia  (now 
rudely  closed  and  plastered  up),  with  delicate 
arches  and  columns  with  two  palm-leaf-shaped 
lozenges  with  carven  crests  united  with  a  coro- 
net and  ribbon  with  legend,  all  in  soft  tinted  stone, 
dainty  enough  to  set  before  a  king  !  One  of  the 
finest  palaces,  now  deserted,  is  the  Monterey,  a 
long  straight  building  rising  in  perfectly  plain 
courses  of  stone  like  a  fortress  in  three  or  four, 
storeys,  the  upper  one  forming  an  arcade  or  loggia, 
a  succession  of  arches  facing  the  street  with  all  its 
columns  and  brackets  and  surrounding  architec- 
tural ornaments  richly  carved  in  a  multitude  of  de- 
signs. At  either  end  open  and  very  beautiful  square 
towers  rise  a  storey  higher,  while  along  the  entire 
roof  line  is  a  tall  balustrade  like  guipure  lace 
sculptured  in  stone.  But  the  one  building  which 
"really  carried  us  to  Salamanca  was  the  famous 
"  Casa  de  las  Conchas,"  the  house  of  the  shells, 
an  old  unoccupied  Ducal  palace,  considered  one 


203  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

of  the  most  beautiful  edifices  in  the  world.  It  is 
very  odd,  and  repetition  in  these  later  days  would 
perhaps  be  perilous,  but  it  is  unique  and  very 
fascinating,  the  entire,  perfectly  smooth  and  plain 
fa9ade,  pierced  here  and  there  with  most  lovely 
and  ornate  windows,  being  ornamented  at  regular 
intervals  with  massive  scollop  shells,  of  sculptured 
stone.  Family  escutcheons  and  crests  and  superb 
wrought-iron  window  screens,  exquisite  enough  for 
a  drawing-room,  enhance  the  strange  beauty  of  it. 
Xo  photographs  give  an  adequate  idea  of  its  ex- 
treme beauty  and  irresistible  charm,  for  the  lance- 
like  shadows  of  the  shells  are  so  accentuated  as  to 
disfigure  and  deceive.  We  could  have  sat  all  day, 
but  for  the  beggars  and  smells,  satisfied  to  simply 
look  at  it,  for  the  stone  is  a  most  peculiar  tint  and 
fairly  pulses  and  glows  in  the  sunlight,  and  the 
shadows,  so  ugly  in  the  photographs,  are  most 
bewitching.  Architecturally  it  ranks  with  the 
Venetian  palaces  for  unaffected  grace  and  genuine 
beauty.  It  encloses  a  dream  of  a  court,  exquisite 
with  arches,  columns,  great  lion  heads  holding 
rings  with  shields,  adorned  with  "Fleur  de  Lys," 
odd  balustrades  like  banisters  interlaced  with 
willows,  crestings  resembling  guipure  lace  or 
passementerie  in  designs  of  clustered  "  Fleur  de 
Lys,"  gargoyles  of  grotesque  conceit  and  a  stately 


A  SPANISH  UNIVERSITY  TOWN.          203 

staircase  to  the  upper  loggia.  As  one  stands 
within  and  opposite  the  entrance,  the  towers  and 
domes  of  the  Jesuit  church  rise  so  closely  beyond 
as  to  seem  part  of  the  stately,  lonely  pile.  The 
play  of  light  and  shadow,  the  throng  of  beauti- 
ful ornament  and  the  utter  stillness  and  dreamy 
repose  make  the  scene  enchanting  and  lasting  in 
impression.  But  the  magnificent  Cathedral 
dominates,  as  it  should,  all  other  structures,  for 
it  stands  upon  an  elevation,  and,  the  north  side 
being  quite  unobstructed,  an  unusually  fine  view 
is  obtained  of  the  whole  length  of  it.  With  its 
double  aisles,  flying  buttresses,  turrets,  transept, 
fagade  with  statues  and  niches,  windows,  lantern 
dome  and  tall  west  tower,  all  in  stone,  which  in 
color,  runs  the  gamut  of  tawny  yellow,  russet 
and  brown,  seeming  to  hold  the  golden  sunlight 
in  great,  sweeping  patches,  it  is  sublime  and  im- 
pressive to  the  last  degree.  The  west  front  is  like 
a  huge  piece  of  embroidery,  so  covered  is  it  with 
statues,  floriated  and  Gothic  ornaments  and  brack- 
ets and  canopies,  saints,  apostles  and  the  "  blessed 
among  women."  Such  edifices  seen,  like  a  mighty 
floriated  pyramid,  rising  against  the  sunset  sky, 
or  in  the  golden  atmosphere  of  that  hour,  are  inde- 
scribable, so  unlike  in  appearance  and  expression 
are  they  from  anything  in  our  own  land.  Beside 


204  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

this  grand  temple  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  the 
old  Byzantine  Cathedral  dating  from  the  twelfth 
century,  reached  by  a  wide  staircase  from  the 
modern  church  and  also  from  a  lower  street,  with 
most  quaint  and  interesting  interior,  with  curious 
capitals,  small  dome  and  little  chapels.  Attached 
to  it  is  a  cloister  with  chapels,  in  one  of  which 
the  Muz-arabic  ritual,  which  in  Toledo  is  said 
ever)'  day,  is  observed  six  times  in  a  year.  The 
interior  of  the  great  Cathedral  is  grand  in  the 
upward  sweep  of  the  columns  and  arches  and  the 
long,  cool,  quieting  shadows  of  nave  and  aisles,  but 
disfigured  or  dwarfed  as  are  many  of  the  Spanish 
cathedrals,  with  the  choir,  a  structure  of  itself, 
occupying  the  centre.  A  most  unusual  feature 
are  beautiful  little  Renaissance  galleries  or  bal- 
conies in  the  transepts,  and  sculptured  busts  or 
heads  projecting  from  golden  circles,  while  high 
above  is  a  most  elaborately  decorated  Gothic  roof. 
Back  of  the  high  altar  is  a  necklace  of  chapels, 
and  somewhere  in  the  edifice  is  the  crucifix  which 
"the  Cid"  always  carried  before  him  in  the  per- 
petual conflicts  which  make  the  warp  of  Spanish 
history,  but  we  failed  to  see  it.  In  our  weariness, 
our  greatest  pleasure  was  in  just  sitting  quietly  at 
the  intersection  of  nave  and  transept  and  look- 
ing in  a  desultory  way  at  the  general  effects,  the 


A  SPANISH  UNIVERSITY  TOWN.          205 

forest  of  columns,  the  touch  of  color  here  and 
there  of  stained  glass,  the  play  of  sunlight  and 
shadow  and  the  kneeling  figures  in  black  and 
Spanish  mantillas  and  provincial  costumes. 
Altogether,  whether  seen  from  adjacent  city 
streets  or  from  verdant,  distant  meadows,  the 
antiquated,  picturesque  pile  was  to  us  a  joy  and 
delight,  and  alone  recompensed  for  all  the  in- 
convenience of  reaching  Salamanca. 

The  ancient  University  has  a  marvellous  fa9ade 
and  portal,  facing  a  small  square,  fairly  em- 
bossed and  embroidered  with  the  most  refined 
and  delicate  carvings  of  leaves,  flowers,  etc.,  in 
yellow  stone,  which  shows  no  sign  of  disinte- 
gration or  decay.  The  great  buildings  enclose  a 
court,  architecturally  very  fine,  with  arcades  arid 
cloisters,  and  a  garden  with  evergreens,  but  it 
suffers  much  from  neglect.  We  walked  through 
the  Library,  a  noble  apartment  with  groined 
ceiling  and  fittings  of  light  wood,  and  several  of 
the  class  rooms,  some  of  which  were  of  much 
historical  and  personal  interest,  with  the  rude 
forms  or  desks  used  in  the  day  of  the  founder. 
A  little  ways  from  the  Cathedral  is  the  church 
and  convent  of  San  Esteban,  or  Domingo,  to 
which  Columbus  retired  while  working  out  his 
theory.  The  front  of  the  church  is  like  a  cur- 


206  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

tain  or  drapery  of  most  exquisitely  and  delicately 
carved  stone  and  does  not  seem  like  a  building. 
The  interior  is  fine  and  impressive  with  groined 
roof  and  the  most  gorgeous  of  retablos  and  altars, 
all  of  burnished  gilt.  The  only  sign  of  life  was 
an  old  monk  at  prayer  in  the  chancel,  and,  in 
little  wrought-iron  balconies  way  up  on  the  side 
wall,  two  of  the  brotherhood  upon  their  knees. 
An  English  resident  friend  accompanied  us  upon 
a  charming  stroll  to  the  old  bridge,  many  of 
whose  arches  and  piers  are  of  Roman  construction, 
and  to  the  high  ground  without  the  city.  As  we 
looked  off  upon  the  surrounding  country,  a 
stretch  of  unbroken  and  living  green,  the  sunlight, 
breaking  through  a  rift,  threw  in  prominence 
a  knoll  or  gentle  hill,  which  was  the  objective 
point  in  the  famous  battle  in  1812  which  termi- 
nated in  the  annihilating  defeat  of  the  French. 
As  our  friend  pointed  out  the  position  of  Welling- 
ton, the  location  of  the  Scotch  troops  and  the 
point  held  by  the  French,  the  scene  was  so  peace- 
ful, sunny  and  prosperous,  that  it  seemed  a  fabri- 
cation. Our  Sabbath  sojourn  was  given  a  famil- 
iar tone  by  attendance  at  the  service  in  a  new, 
attractive  Protestant  chapel  recently  erected  by 
an  English  society.  Freedom  of  worship  and 
congregating  is  now  permitted  by  the  govern- 


A  SPANISH  UNIVERSITY  TOWN.          207 

ment  (a  long  stride  forward),  but  in  no  particular 
are  the  buildings  allowed  to  appear  like  churches. 
We  were  much  interested  in  the  absorbed  atten- 
tion and  reverential  mien  of  the  people,  who  like 
the  Scotch  sat  with  their  Bibles  open,  verifying 
each  allusion  and  also  sang  with  much  spirit. 
The  last  hymn,  in  Spanish  of  course,  was  "  Jesus 
paid  it  all,"  which  appealed  very  tenderly  to  us, 
not,  alas!  because  of  any  fresh  realization  of  the 
preciousness  and  perfection  of  His  glorious  re- 
demption, but  because  it  annihilated  time  and 
space.  Salamanca  and  its  noble  structures, 
Spain  and  its  sunny  memories,  faded  out  of  mind, 
and,  for  the  time  being,  at  least,  we  were  in  spirit 
in  a  dear  old  and  far-away  home,  with  some  long 
in  the  heavenly  kingdom,  listening,  while  a  little 
brown,  curly-haired  boy  sang  with  childish  sim- 
plicity and  sweetness  the  same  old  story  and  its 
ever-satisfying  refrain. 


THE   CITY  OF  THE   CID. 

THERE  was  no  choice.  We  could  only  leave 
Salamanca  at  ten  p.  M.,  wait,  as  before,  an  hour 
or  so  in  the  midnight  air  at  Medina,  where  Isa- 
bella died,  and  speed  northward  with  the  Paris 
express.  In  the  "  wee  suia'  hours  "  we  passed 
Valladolid,  where  Cervantes  lived  and  Columbus 
died  and  thousands  of  Torquemada's  heretics 
were  roasted  alive.  The  assurance  of  our  friend 
that  there  was  little  there  but  memories  and 
suggestions,  and  the  bright  assertion  of  a  popu- 
lar authoress  that  the  day  she  spent  there  was 
most  satisfactory,  in  that  she  was  satisfied  that 
she  never  wished  to  go  there  again,  did  much  to 
reconcile  us  to  passing  it  by.  About  five-thirty 
A.  M.  we  left  the  train  at  Burgos,  the  birthplace 
of  the  Cid  and  the  final  resting-place  of  his  bones, 
and  the  situation  of  one  of  the  most  magnificent 
Cathedrals  in  Spain.  The  sky  was  clear,  the  air 
fresh  and  cool,  the  streets  still  and  deserted,  and 
the  glimpses  of  long  avenues  or  shady  walks 

and  pretty  public  gardens  and  statues,  prolonged 

208 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  CID.  209 

rows  of  modern  houses,  the  quaint,  beautiful,  old 
gateway  and  the  openwork  spires  of  the  Cathe- 
dral peering  above  the  city  roofs,  as  we  drove 
across  a  little  river,  toward  and  into  the  town, 
were  a  delightful  surprise.  Such  a  time  as  we 
had  effecting  an  entrance  into  the  hotel,  the 
"Fonda  del  Norte."  The  porter  was  asleep, 
the  door  apparently  locked  and  barricaded.  They 
gave  us  comfortable  rooms,  but  the  least  said 
about  the  rest  the  better.  But  we  did  not  ex- 
pect to  live  in  Burgos  on  bread  alone.  We  were 
there  to  see,  and  we  may  well  cheerfully  endure 
three  or  four  wretched  meals,  to  have  come  into 
mind  and  memory  the  fadeless  picture  of  the 
Cathedral  alone.  The  magnificent  structure, 
though,  is  a  jewel  upon  a  rubbish  heap,  a  lily 
upon  the  surface  of  a  noisome  pool.  So  crowded 
is  it  by  mean  and  common  buildings  which  jostle 
and  fairly  stick  to  it,  that  although  it  occupies 
an  elevated  position  it  is  seen  only  piecemeal. 
It  is  a  pity ;  for  in  many  respects  it  is  the  most 
airy,  ornate  and  beautiful  of  all  the  Spanish 
Cathedrals.  The  front  or  west  fa9ade,  in  color  a 
soiled  or  grayish  white,  is  fine,  with  its  portals, 
sculpturings,  rose  window,  balustrade  or  balcony 
formed  of  huge  church  letters,  "Pulchra  es  et 

decora,"  some  seventy-three  statues  of  evangelists 
14 


210  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

and  saints  and  two  exquisite  spires  like  guipure 
luce  or  passementerie,  springing  gracefully  into 
the  blue  air  some  three  hundred  feet.  At  the  end 
of  a  deep  court  open  to  the  street  is  seen  the 
south  fayade  also  very  elaborate,  with  windows 
of  beautiful  design,  sculpturings  without  number 
and  a  multitude  of  statues.  As  we  entered  and 
looked  the  length  of  the  transept,  and  a  moment 
later  stood  at  the  intersection  of  the  transept  and 
nave  and  caught  the  effect  of  the  elaborately 
ornamented  piers,  the  rich  stained  glass,  the  ex- 
quisite wrought-iron  grilles  and  the  interior  of 
the  great  dome,  covered,  as  if  embroidered,  with 
delicate  carvings  and  tiny  balustrades,  it  seemed 
as  if  no  general  effect  could  be  more  lovely. 
But  the  longer  one  looks,  the  more  is  he  impressed 
with  the  lack  of  meaning  in  all  this  profuse  dec- 
oration. It  looks  like  a  garment  which  is  rich  and 
handsome  in  itself,  but  is  overloaded  with  sumpt- 
uous and  incongruous  trimmings  because  the 
owner  happened  to  have  them.  It  is  none  the 
less  picturesque,  however.  As  one  stands  at  the 
west  portal,  the  magnificent  structure,  following 
the  groined  roof,  stretches  away  more  than  three 
hundred  feet.  The  great  vast  nave  is  airy,  and 
graceful,  the  aisles  upon  either  side  lower  but 
none  the  less  beautiful,  and  the  separating  col- 


Burgos  Cathedl  The  Nave 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  CID.  211 

umns  firm  and  light.  It  also  seems  so  white 
and  light  compared  with  the  interiors  of  southern 
Spain.  At  the  intersection  of  transept  and  nave 
springs  away  in  air,  with  almost  a  soaring,  float- 
ing movement,  the  dome  or  lantern,  profusely 
decorated  with  escutcheons  and  modelled  orna- 
ments, till  it  seems  as  if  decoration  could  do  no 
more.  It  is  a  good  example  of  a  style  much  seen 
in  Spain,  called  the  "  Plateresque,"  which  seems 
to  consist  in  applying  or  sticking  on  to  the  sur- 
face, without  meaning  or  expression,  any  odds  or 
ends  of  beautiful  ornaments  one  may  chance  to 
have  on  hand. 

Following  the  side  of  the  aisles  and  around  the 
apsidal  end  are  chapels  rich  in  superb  sculptured 
tombs  covered  with  gorgeous  colored  velvet  palls 
embroidered  with  crests,  elaborately  carved,  and 
gilded  altar  pieces  and  retablos,  much  gaudy  deco- 
ration and  a  fe\v  good  pictures.  Back  of  the  high 
Altar  is  the  Constable  Chapel,  a  church  of  itself, 
with  a  superb  lantern  dome  quite  rivalling  that 
of  the  Cathedral,  the  property  of  a  noble  family 
who  faithfully  care  for  it.  The  most  interest- 
ing feature  of  it  is  a  tomb  before  the  High  Altar, 
which  is  magnificent,  consisting  of  a  rich  base  or 
catafalque  of  polished  chocolate-colored  jasper, 
upon  which  recline  two  recumbent  effigies  of  Car- 


212  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

rara  marble,  which,  yellowed  by  age,  has  the  ap- 
pearance of  wax.  The  armor  of  the  man  and  the 
flowing  robes  of  the  woman  are  most  delicately 
and  elaborately  chiselled  even  to  minutest  particu. 
lar.  The  heads  rest  upon  pillows  of  marble,  which 
are  so  delicately  ornamented  as  to  look  like  em- 
broidery or  damask.  Fine  cloisters  also  connect 
with  the  Cathedral,  and  with  their  long  vistas, 
sunlit  enclosures  and  cool  shadows,  are  always 
a  picture  and  delight.  The  last  half  hour  before 
leaving  the  city  we  passed  looking  through  the 
grilles  and  arches,  and  up  to  the  lantern  with 
the  lovely  light  filtering  through  the  stained 
windows  like  a  "  Shekinah  "  above  and  around  the 
high  altar.  It  was  a  Feast  day  and  they  were 
having  a  great  time  carrying  around  upon  a  silver 
covered  and  draped  catafalque,  a  beautiful,  metal 
cabinet  with  glass  sides,  in  which,  upon  satin 
cushions,  rested  an  old  thifjh  bone .  The  procession 
as  it  moved  down  the  dim  aisles  was  extremely 
picturesque,  because  of  the  white  and  golden 
robes  and  draperies  of  some  thirty  priests  and  at- 
tendants, with  banners  and  a  queer,  unfamiliar 
musical  instrument.  Meanwhile  the  music  of  the 
organs  was  very  lovely.  Later  the  space  before 
the  high  altar,  filled  with  kneeling  figures  in 
black,  flooded  with  the  soft  light  from  above,  was 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  CID.  213 

most  solemn  and  impressive.  Vast  in  enclosure, 
beautiful  in  many  details  and  lavish  in  ornamenta- 
tion, it  forms  a  succsssion  of  exquisite  pictures,  but, 
with  all,  we  failed  to  catch  the  feeling  of  Amici 
when  he  wrote,  "  It  produces  the  effect  upon  you 
of  a  superhuman  voice  which  cries,  '  I  am ! '  " 
From  the  town,  a  lovely  drive  of  a  half  hour  or 
more  through  long  shaded  alamedas  and  open 
country  leads  to  the  suppressed  Convent  of 
Miraflores,  the  chapel  of  which,  upon  an  elevation, 
with  Gothic  pinnacles  and  flying  buttresses,  looks 
like  an  old  English  rural  church  and  contains  the 
tombs  erected  by  Isabella  over  the  remains  of  her 
father  and  mother,  considered  prominent  among 
the  finest  in  Europe.  Oh !  how  delicately  beauti- 
ful they  are,  although  marred  by  sight-seers  and 
relic-hunters  and  dingy  and  discolored  by  age  and 
neglect.  They  lie  immediately  in  front  of  the  high 
altar,  and  are  most  wonderfully  and  elaborately 
ornamented  with  sculptured  lions,  miniature 
statues,  birds,  floriated  fancies  and  architectural 
conceits.  But  the  structures  are  so  tall  that  the 
exquisitely  wrought  effigies,  lying  at  full  length 
upon  the  top,  are  not  readily  or  satisfactorily  seen. 
The  high  altar  is  interesting,  being  covered  with 
gold  brought  by  Columbus  from  America  upon  his 
second  voyage.  A  drive  of  about  the  same  dis- 


214  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

tance  in  the  opposite  direction  brought  us  to  "Las 
Iluelgas,"  a  convent  founded  by  Eleanor,  sister  of 
Richard  Coeur  de  Lion,  in  which  only  titled  and 
aristocratic  ladies  are  received  or  immured  by 
their  families.  From  one  side  of  the  uninteresting 
church,  we  looked  through  an  immense  plate-glass 
partition  upon  the  superb  chapel  of  the  nuns, 
with  costly  carved  stalls  and  rich  tombs,  but  the 
poetical  and  picturesque  white-robed  figures  at 
solitary  and  rapt  devotion  wrere  nowhere  visible 
and  the  most  romantic  feature  was  wanting. 

Although  Burgos  is  the  city  of  the  Cid,  there 
is  little  in  the  city  itself  to  recall  that  strange 
romantic  career  around  which  so  much  historic 
incident  and  legendary  glamour  centre.  It  was 
his  birthplace,  but  the  home  he  wished  with  dy- 
ing breath  to  be  carried  to  for  burial  is  some 
miles  away,  San  Pedro  de  Cerdena,  a  Benedictine 
convent,  little  of  which  now  remains.  Who  does 
not  know  the  chivalric  story  of  the  impetuous 
career  for  country  and  for  right,  the  death  at  far- 
away Valencia,  the  ghastly  journey  home,  with 
funeral  pomp,  clad  in  armor,  with  sword  buckled 
to  side,  upon  his  faithful  and  beloved  steed,  and 
his  final  burial  before  the  high  altar  of  the  con- 
vent church  ?  In  later  years  the  bones  of  himself 
and  wife  were  brought  to  Burgos,  where  they  now 


THE  CITY  OF  THE  CID.  215 

have  the  queerest  entombment  possible.  In  the 
centre  of  a  large  salon  in  the  Town  Hall  (!),  a  per- 
fect discord  of  various  shades  of  red,  stands  a  sort 
of  cabinet  of  dark  polished  wood  which  looks  like 
a  large  work  or  silver  chest  and  but  faintly  sug- 
gested a  sarcophagus.  As  we  entered  the  room 
our  first  thought,  as  we  saw  the  peculiar  creation, 
was  "  What  is  it  ?  "  for  it  is  in  appearance  "  neither 
fish,  flesh  nor  fowl,"  when  lo  !  it  was  the  veri- 
table tomb  of  the  Cid  we  had  come  to  see.  One's 
standard  of  tombs  unconsciously  gets  so  elevated 
in  this  country  that  this  placing  the  helpless 
bones  of  a  hero  and  heroine  in  a  meaningless  work- 
box  in  the  centre  of  a  commonplace  municipal 
room  seems  a  long  step  down  in  character,  dig- 
nity and  respect.  The  attending  senora,  in  due 
expectation  of  a  fee,  explained  to  us,  that  up  to  a 
very  short  time  ago,  it  was  never  opened  save 
upon  great  occasions  and  for  distinguishd  individ- 
uals, but  recently  the  City  Fathers  had  directed 
it  to  be  shown  to  any  visitor  at  a  certain  hour. 
She  turned  the  key,  lifted  the  hinged  cover,  and 
there,  under  a  glass,  upon  a  rich  satin  cushion,  laid 
a  collection  of  discolored  bones.  And  this  was 
"  the  Cid  "  and  his  faithful  wife  Ximena !  In  one 
corner  of  the  room  was  an  elegant  little  casket  of 
gold  and  glass  containing  some  bones  of  the  Cid 


216  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

once  spirited  away,  but  returned  from  Germany 
with  great  pomp  and  ceremony  a  few  years  ago. 
It  was  not  at  all  impressive  and  justified  the  re- 
mark of  an  irreverent  bystander,  that  they  were 
merely  "  chips  from  the  old  block." 


BY  BISCAY'S  SHORE. 

FORTUNATELY  the  enforced  and  unavoidable 
night  travel,  with  its  attendant  loss  of  all  knowl- 
edge of  the  physical  aspect  of  the  region  trav- 
ersed, came  to  an  end  with  Burgos,  and  we  were 
able  to  make  the  journey  north Avard  to  San  Sebas- 
tian (eight  or  nine  hours)  by  daylight,  having  a 
most  satisfactory  view  of  the  varied  and  pretty 
Basque  country,  so  unlike  in  character  any  other 
portion  of  our  itinerary.  For  awhile  we  seemed  in 
the  very  heart  of  a  tumultuous  stretch  of  moun- 
tains and  hills,  around,  through,  over  and  from 
point  to  point  of  which  the  railway  climbed  and 
curvetted  with  much  of  the  rollicking  defiance 
peculiar  to  the  Alpine  roads.  From  a  high  ridge 
we  would  look  down  into  depths  and  upon  the  road 
by  which  we  had  risen,  or  forward  upon  the  course 
before  us,  while  at  others  we  seemed  launched 
upon  a  billowy  sea  of  hilltops,  now  dark  and  som- 
bre with  shadows  of  passing  storm-clouds  and 
again  flooded  with  glorious  sunshine.  Late  in  the 

day  we  came  into  a  district  and  passed  through  vil- 

217 


218  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

lages  so  different  from  any  we  had  seen  that  we 
quite  lost  our  geographical  and  racial  bearing  and 
could  have  imagined  ourselves  almost  anywhere. 
About  seven  o'clock  that  lovely  June  evening  we 
entered  the  handsome  station  of  San  Sebastian, 
the  romantic,  mediaeval  and  picturesque  disap- 
peared, and  again  we  were  in  conscious  touch  with 
the  hurrying,  progressive  life  of  to-day.  As  our 
hotel  was  a  good  half  mile  from  the  station  our 
drive  across  the  plain  and  the  fine  bridge  over 
the  river,  with  glimpses  of  the  sea  and  farther 
rocky  shores,  through  avenues  of  trees  and  past 
blocks  of  fine  houses,  and  finally  through  the  wide, 
tree-lined  street  called  the  "  Avenida,"  gave  us  a 
most  agreeable  first  impression  of  the  place. 
The  hotel  also  was  made  attractive  by  surrounding 
garden,  trees  and  blossoming  shrubbery.  As  it 
is  a  seaside  resort,  in  close  proximity  to  the  French 
frontier,  it  is  decidedly  cosmopolitan  in  character 
and  appearance.  The  long  rows  of  four  and  five 
storey  buildings  with  chateau  roofs  and  arcades 
that  mark  the  business  portion,  and  a  majority  of 
the  pretty  villas  that  closely  stud  the  shore,  are 
French  and  not  Spanish,  while  the  low,  rambling, 
costly  villa  of  the  Queen  Regent  upon  a  green 
knoll  overlooking  the  town  and  far  out  upon  the 
blue  sea,  is  so  English  as  to  seem  like  a  bit  of  the 


BY  BISCAY'S  SHORE.  219 

beautiful  kingdom  itself,  set  temporarily  in  this 
dainty  scene. 

As  it  was  "  out  of  season,"  the  life  in  the  streets 
was  all  Spanish.  The  lay  of  the  land  is  peculiar, 
the  town  being  built  upon  a  low-lying  isthmus 
formed  by  the  little  Urumea  wending  its  way  to 
the  seaboard  upon  one  side,  and  just  the  loveliest 
and  most  picturesque  cove  or  bay  imaginable 
upon  the  other.  If  the  two  were  united,  a  large 
bay  would  be  formed,  and  a  most  beautiful  scene 
obliterated,  for  the  strip,  as  it  reaches  the  sea, 
bends  and  rises  into  a  bold,  rocky,  tree-embowered 
hill  or  height,  at  the  summit  of  which  looms  up 
most  picturesquely  the  walls  of  an  ancient  cas- 
tle. Beyond  this,  as  if  already  not  enough,  is  a 
little  island.  This,  in  turn,  forms  the  lovely,  half- 
land-locked  bay,  called  "la  Concha,"  the  shell, 
upon  which  face  a  showy  Casino,  hotels,  numer- 
ous villas  stretching  along  a  bathing  beach,  while 
the  opposite  shore  is  bold,  verdant  and  rock- 
strewn.  It  is  very  lovely — a  little  Paradise  of 
a  watering-place — for  there  the  waves  lap  softly 
upon  the  beautiful  bathing  beach,  and  the  eye 
rests  upon  sunlit  waters,  bold,  rocky  shores, 
picturesque  island  and  castle-crowned  heights, 
and  then  far  away  across  the  waters  of  Biscay's 
Bay.  A  walk  to  the  castle  is  most  fascinating, 


220  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

with  exquisite  inland  and  ocean  sweeping  views. 
Upon  the  hillside  below  the  castle  is  one  of  the  pa- 
thetic sights  that  mark  England's  course  all  over 
the  world,  a  small  burial  ground  with  the  graves 
of  English  officers  who  followed  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  only  to  die.  The  old  town  has  been 
so  tried  with  fire,  having  been  swept  five  times, 
that  scarcely  anything  remains  of  it.  Welling- 
ton's troops  and  blue-jackets,  maddened  by  vic- 
tory, and  probably  something  else,  fired  and 
literally  wiped  it  out.  Two  old  churches  remain, 
and  possibly  they  would  have  been  more  inter- 
esting had  it  been  the  beginning  of  our  tour  in  a 
strange  land  instead  of  the  ending.  Costly  em- 
bankments and  quays  have  been  constructed 
upon  the  bay  where  the  river  debouches,  and  the 
boisterous  waves  of  the  vicious  Bay  of  Biscay 
often  play  sad  and  destructive  havoc  upon  them. 
Little  San  Sabastian  has  an  additional  honor  in 
being  the  capital  of  a  province. 

Not  the  least  interesting  feature  of  this  pretty 
resort,  to  the  thoughtful  observer,  is  the  cheery 
Protestant  boarding  and  day  school  under  the 
care  of  Mrs.  Alice  Gordon  Gulick  and  a  corps  of 
assistants  from  our  own  land,  a  light  in  a  dark 
place  which  cannot  but  shine  more  and  more 
unto  the  perfect  day,  a  refined  and  Christian 


BY  BISCAY'S  SHORE.  221 

home  whose  influence  will  be  reflected  for  long 
years  to  come  in  many  a  Spanish  household, 
through  the  high  intellectual  culture  and  Chris- 
tian training  of  its  inmates,  the  future  matrons 
of,  let  us  hope,  a  new  and  regenerated  Spain. 
The  patient,  thorough  work  which  is  so  admir- 
ably carried  on  is  worthy  the  generous  consider- 
ation and  hearty  sympathy  of  all  who  care  for 
the  Master's  Kingdom.  Mrs.  Gulick,  who  is  a 
graduate  of  Mt.  Holyoke,  was  in  England  under 
medical  treatment  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  but 
the  work  was  most  ably  cared  for.  Rev.  W.  H. 
Gulick,  her  husband,  has  the  supervision  of  all 
the  various  mission  works  in  the  country,  and 
was  the  helpful,  instructive  and  charming  com- 
panion of  our  whole  tour  from  Gibraltar  to  San 
Sebastian. 

One  afternoon  we  drove  to  "  Igueldo,"  a  rocky 
height  quite  out  of  sight  of  San  Sabastian.  Pass- 
ing through  the  groups  of  fanciful  villas  which 
stand  along  the  beach,  like  a  bevy  of  gayly  attired 
maidens,  and  beneath  the  arched  passage  under 
the  Queen's  lawn,  and  leaving  the  shore,  the 
road  swayed  to  and  fro  in  its  mountings  of  higher 
and  higher,  giving  breathless  and  sweeping  views 
over  the  hill  country  and  sea-like  Biscay.  At 
length  we  reached  a  little  elevated  hamlet,  where 


M2  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

we  left  the  carriage  and  climbed  the  hillside,  till 
we  came  to  the  crest  which  proved  to  be  the  top- 
most rocky  ridge  like  the  back  of  an  animal.  A 
rough  stone  cross  gave  a  strange,  weird  and 
lonely  expression  to  it.  The  magnificent  view  is 
so  simple  and  so  beautiful,  yet  most  difficult  to 
portray.  To  our  left,  like  a  shoreless  sea,  the 
blue  waters  of  treacherous  Biscay,  as  calm  and 
shimmering  in  the  sunlight  as  if  fierce  storms 
were  not  its  normal  condition  and  the  rocky 
shores  the  scene  of  many  a  wreck.  It  is  a  rock- 
bound  coast,  and  as  we  followed  it  along,  back  of 
us,  range  after  range  of  hazy  purple  mountains 
seemed  to  move  seaward  like  leviathans  com- 
ing down  to  drink.  To  our  right,  the  hillside 
dropped  hastily  and  steeply  away,  and  we 
looked  upon  a  hill-dotted  valley,  a  mass  of  gentle, 
bounding,  rollicking  hills,  all  fretted  into  a 
mosaic  of  verdant  fields  and  brown  fallow 
lands,  while  beyond,  stretching  away  to  the  hori- 
zon, shrouded  in  clouds  and  darkness,  the  peaks 
and  rolling,  serrated  ranges  of  the  Pyrenees. 
Directly  before  us,  way  down  in  the  depths,  lay 
the  blue  waters  of  "  la  Concha,"  with  a  faint  line 
of  white  where  the  waves  broke  upon  the  yellow 
sands,  the  long  line  of  chateaux,  the  Queen  Re- 
gent's villa  and  the  houses  of  San  Sebastian,  in  a 


BY  BISCAY'S  SHORE.  223 

gray-white  semicircle.  Way  off  in  the  distance 
a  little  glimpse  of  blue  waters  like  a  tiny  basin 
in  the  pretty  hill  country  told  of  Passages  from 
whence  Lafayette  sailed  to  our  assistance,  and, 
farther  on,  a  white  gleam  in  the  faint  coast  line 
marked  the  location  of  Biarritz.  It  seemed  so 
strange  to  sweep  over  such  a  sea  as  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  is,  and  not  notice  a  sail  or  trail  of  steamer 
smoke,  but  only  near  the  shore  a  few  toy-like 
fishing-boats.  Nothing  could  surpass  the  rural 
beauty  of  the  view  to  the  right.  The  hills, 
tickled  with  the  rude  ploughs,  seem  to  fairly 
smile  with  cultivated  fields  and  orchards,  with 
here  and  there  a  red-tiled  roof  and  everwhere  the 
white  ribbon-like  roads,  and  in  the  depths,  trees 
so  dense  and  dark  as  to  be  quite  forest-like.  An- 
other afternoon  was  most  pleasantly  whiled  away 
in  a  visit  to  Passages,  the  little  seaport,  interest- 
ing to  every  American  as  the  one  from  which 
Lafayette  embarked.  A  half  hour's  ride  in  the 
tram-car  brought  us  apparently  to  a  little  lake 
or  land-locked  bay,  where  were  fine  new  quays 
and  extensive  warehouses.  But  the  transforma- 
tion was  complete,  for  the  modern  and  mediaeval 
were  lost  in  the  simple  arid  picturesque.  We 
wondered  where  we  were,  it  was  so  dramatic,  so 
like  an  artificial  set  scene  !  Across  the  quiet  pool 


2;>4  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

a  single  row  of  houses  crowded  and  jumbled  to- 
gether, with  gables  and  balconies  almost  com- 
pletely covering  the  fronts,  all  close  to  the 
water's  edge.  All  colors  and  forms,  old  churches, 
the  laundry  of  about  every  family  flying  in  the 
breeze  from  every  balcony,  ancient  fortifications 
and  rough  dark  hills  beyond,  seen  through  air 
crystalline  in  clearness,  with  the  reflection  in  the 
smooth  waters,  made  a  picture  of  striking  quaint- 
ness  and  beauty.  Strong,  sturdy,  bareheaded 
women  rowed  the  boat  across  the  quiet  harbor, 
and  then  we  walked  along  the  one  narrow  street 
scarcely  wide  enough  for  a  cart  and  went  up  to 
the  old  fortifications,  which  commanded  a  fine 
view  of  the  very  narrow  gateway  or  passage  to 
the  sea,  and  far  out  upon  the  turbulent  waters. 
The  little  town  rejoices  in  the  name  of  "  St.  John," 
while  the  "  passage  "  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the 
inlet,  a  single  street  with  droll  houses  and  sights 
and  an  old  church,  is  none  the  less  complacent 
under  the  title  of  "  St.  Peter."  It  is  little  to  tell 
of,  but  between  the  old  churches  with  queer  be- 
longings, the  quaint,  arched  passageways,  the 
picturesque  confusion  of  gables  and  corners,  the 
peaceful  restful  bay  and  the  surrounding  sombre 
and  flower-starred  hills,  and  the  striking  contrast 
of  the  almost  angry  waters  of  Biscay  stretching 


BY  BISCAY'S  SHORE.  225 

away  to  the  horizon,  we  could  have  tarried  there 
all  day  as  happy  as  in  a  dream.  Perhaps  we 
ought  to  have  thought  and  have  recalled  the 
never-to-be-forgotten  service  of  Lafayette,  but 
somehow,  in  the  light  of  altered  circumstances, 
the  lapse  of  years,  the  exquisite  rest-fulness  and 
"  dolce  far  niente  "  of  that  sunny,  mellow  after- 
noon, the  old  thrilling  story  seemed,  and  floated 
in  our  minds,  as  some  far-away  and  beautiful 
poetic  myth  with  which  this  land  so  richly 

abounds. 
15 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  A  DEVOTEE. 

OXE  absolutely  perfect  day  was  filled  to  the 
overflowing  by  a  charming  drive  in  an  easy  open 
carriage  to  Azpeitia,  the  birthplace  of  that  grave, 
gloomy,  mysterious  character,  the  founder  of  the 
order  of  Jesuits,  Ignatius  Loyola.  Again  we 
drove  along  the  wave-lapped  beach,  past  the 
pretty  villas,  under  the  Queen  Regent's  lawn,  and 
leaving  the  shore  turned  inland,  through  a  valley 
or  bed  between  great,  bounding  hills  which  re- 
minded us  of  our  own  Berkshire  county.  It 
was  a  lovely  drive  from  beginning  to  end,  a  con- 
stant succession  of  rural  pictures,  kaleidoscopic 
in  variety  and  rapidity  of  change.  Sometimes 
the  way  would  follow  a  stream  winding  and 
bending  between  shaded  banks,  like  a  pretty 
English  river,  and  at  intervals  most  picturesque 
glimpses  were  had  of  curving,  shaded,walled  roads 
with  groups  of  peasants  plodding  along,  the  women 
carrying  their  babies  upon  their  backs,  or  fields 

with  women  in  dull  reds  and  blues  quite  sug- 
226 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  A  DEVOTEE.         227 

gestive  of  Murillo's  mellow  tints.  Stone  walls 
along  the  road,  arched  bridges  of  stones  and  a 
road  as  smooth  as  a  park  drive,  demonstrated 
the  care  and  thrift  of  the  Province.  The  first 
village  of  any  size  was  decidedly  Italian  in  char- 
acter, a  mixture  of  Swiss  and  Italian,  rather  than 
Spanish.  A  fine  old  palace,  with  sculptured 
crest  and  broad  eaves,  was  quite  like  those  often 
seen  in  Italy.  Our  way  then  led  to  and  fro 
along  densely  wooded  hills,  the  smooth  road  often 
doubling  upon  itself.  Some  of  the  very  wide, 
rude  houses  were  fairly  covered  with  grapevines, 
and  often  nestling  among  the  trees  upon  opposite 
hillside  a  gable  and  roof  would  show,  that  needed 
only  the  stones  upon  it  to  make  it  appear  a  Swiss 
chalet.  Often  the  white  road  could  be  seen 
wriggling  and  bending  a  long  way  in  front  of  us. 
Another  dirty  Italian-looking  village  upon  a 
river's  bank,  with  a  pretty  glimpse  of  the  sea, 
was  passed.  Very  pretty  too  were  the  old  stone 
bridges  and  the  new  viaducts  of  a  narrow  gauge 
road  in  process  of  construction.  Then  we  climbed 
slowly  a  hill,  first  facing  one  way  and  then  an- 
other, looking  down  constantly  upon  the  white 
road  traversed.  Oh,  how  gentle,  verdant  and 
fresh  the  country  appeared  !  Suddenly,  away  be- 
fore us,  appeared  the  blue  waters  with  a  great, 


228  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

emerald,  rocky  island  across  the  mouth  of  an  in- 
let. It  was  like  a  sudden  lifting  of  a  stage  cur- 
tain, so  entirely  different  was  it.  Soon  we  en- 
tered a  long  avenue  of  Lombardy  poplars,  stiff 
and  straight,  passed  iron  fences  through  which  we 
looked  at  well-ordered  grounds  and  tasteful  sum- 
mer villas,  and  came  to  a  large  and  populous  town 
where  we  rested  for  a  half  hour,  or  rather  the 
horses  did,  for  immediately  we  sought  out  the  old 
church,  which  had  showy  golden  retablos  and  a 
pretty,  inverted,  curved  gallery.  A  road  bent  off  to 
one  side  with  high  walls,  overhanging  trees  and 
pendant  ivy.  We  were  close  to  the  sea,  but  did 
not  know  it  until  later  in  the  day,  when  we  came 
again  into  the  little  town  by  this  picturesque 
way.  The  town  had  the  look  of  centuries,  but — 
a  woman  sat  by  an  open  window  with  a  sewing- 
machine,  upon  the  side  of  which  was  the  magic 
"  Singer !  "  Then  along  the  lovely  country  road 
again !  There  were  no  patches  of  wild  flowers, 
not  even  the  familiar  stretch  of  scarlet  poppies. 
The  land  is  too  well  cultivated  for  that.  On  the 
road  banks  great  bunches  of  purple  heather  were 
breaking  into  bloom  :  hundreds  of  privet  shrubs, 
suffocating  in  odor,  were  white  with  blossoms, 
pink  and  white  single  roses  showed  here  and 
there  in  the  hedges,  and  along  the  way  the  dear 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  A  DEVOTEE.        j>2<j 

little  Pimpernels  were  thick  as  among  the  tum- 
bled rocks  of  Maine.  We  sped  along  a  narrow 
valley,  upon  side  hill,  by  a  viaduct  to  opposite 
slope,  until  we  came  into  a  more  open  country, 
the  hills  becoming  bolder,  the  valleys  wider  and 
the  general  scenery  more  striking.  We  seemed 
no  longer  in  valley  depths,  but  upon  hillsides  with 
roads  hewn  out  of  them  and  bold  mountain  views, 
fine  farms,  great  red-roofed  houses,  cloud-tipped 
distant  ranges  and  beautiful  villas  ever  before 
us.  Down  and  down,  to  and  fro,  our  way  laid 
until  we  reached  about  midday  the  village  of  Az- 
peitia,  a  half  mile  or  more  beyond  which,  in  a  deli- 
cious green  valley,  is  situated  the  "  Casa  Santa," 
the  monastery  and  church  which  environ  the 
birthplace  of  Ignatius  Loyola.  It  is  a  huge  pile 
of  monotonous  buildings  with  the  irregular  por- 
tico of  the  church  projecting  from  the  centre. 
To  one  side  is  a  hotel  and  in  front  two  lovely 
shaded  walks  of  horse  chestnuts  trained  upon  a 
trellis.  The  church  is  imposing  in  size,  but  taw- 
dry, cheap  and  ugly  in  effect,  abounding  in  gray 
marble  arid  stucco-work.  In  the  huge  dome 
appear  family  crests  upon  draperied  backgrounds, 
here  and  there  is  a  touch  of  gold,  and  before  the 
side  chapels  exquisite  crystal  chandeliers.  The 
men  of  the  party  were  conducted  through  the 


230  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

monastery  proper  by  a  most  agreeable  and  enter- 
taining "  Father,"  Irish  by  birth,  but  Spanish  by 
adoption  and  long  residence.  The  Library,  the 
plain  refectory,  the  garden,  courts,  corridors  and 
cells  were  visited  consecutively.  They  were  ex- 
tensive and  commodious,  delightfully  sweet  and 
clean,  but  in  spite  of  a  wealth  of  sunshine  were 
all  as  white  and  cold  as  the  personal  life  they 
extinguish  or  impoverish.  The  house  in  which 
Loyola  was  born  is  incorporated  within  the  mon- 
astery walls  and  is  shown  to  every  one,  and  is  in 
every  way  disappointing.  The  outer  walls  were 
shown,  and  in  the  next  breath  we  were  told  they 
were  only  exact  replicas.  Then  we  were  taken 
upstairs  where  were  several  low  ceiled  apart- 
ments, tiie  genial  guide  remarking  that  the  ceil- 
ings and  floors  were  the  originals,  but  the  parti- 
tions had  been  removed  to  adapt  the  rooms  to 
pilgrimages  and  religious  ceremonies.  In  one 
room,  however,  stands  unchanged  the  old  altar 
of  the  family.  In  another  the  identical  place  is 
shown  where  he  was  laid  when  sore  wounded 
he  was  brought  home  from  the  siege  of  Pamplona. 
As  is  well  known,  it  was  while  lying  here — in 
his  long  convalescence — that  his  whole  life  was 
changed  through  reading  and  meditating  upon  the 
"  Lives  of  the  Saints, "  etc.  But  they  have  spoiled 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  A  DEVOTEE. 

it  all  by  vulgarly  ornamenting  and  elaborately 
gilding  the  ceilings  in  a  way  utterly  foreign  to  the 
dramatic  and  pathetic  story.  The  rooms  are  ar- 
ranged with  open  screen  partitions  so  that  the 
vulgar  crowd  can  kneel  and  "  long  to  enter  in." 
Standing  there  and  recalling  the  striking  inci- 
dents of  his  career,  the  religious  thought  and  influ- 
ence of  his  time  and  the  cruel,  terrible  power 
which  even  to-day  is  the  outgrowth  of  his  work, 
one  could  not  help  thinking  what  the  result  of 
equal  self-renunciation,  devotion  and  consecra- 
tion, in  the  clearer  shining  of  this  age,  might  do 
for  the  evangelization  and  salvation  of  this  sin- 
touched  world.  Whether  one  sympathizes  with 
it  or  not,  the  story  of  this  life  is  thrilling  and  in- 
teresting and  inspires  in  a  thoughtful  mind  a 
very  deep  and  solemn  question.  The  location  of 
the  buildings  is  fine  and  striking.  To  the  rear, 
an  amphitheatre  of  hills.  In  front,  a  wide,  level, 
fertile  valley.  To  the  left,  a  great  sloping  moun- 
tain covered  one-third  of  the  way  up  with  verdure 
and  showing  beyond  almost  entirely  bare  gray 
rocks.  In  front,  far  away  beyond  the  valley  and 
the  village,  a  great  hump  or  mound-like  moun- 
tain, gray,  grizzled  and  mottled  with  green,  while 
to  its  right  a  mountain  range  bounds  away  as  if 
to  tell  the  world  a  child  was  born  whose  impress 


VM  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

would  be  for  succeeding  centuries  a  terrible  power 
upon  it. 

In  far-a-away  Rome,  by  the  yellow  Tiber,  in 
the  church  of  "  II  Gesu,"  in  the  transept  chapel 
dedicated  to  his  memory,  in  an  urn  of  gilt  bronze, 
beneath  a  gorgeous  altar  enriched  with  his 
statue  in  silver  and  a  group  of  the  Trinity  with 
a  globe  of  lapis-lazuli,  said  to  be  the  largest 
piece  in  existence,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  mere- 
tricious magnificence  that  gold  and  precious 
marbles  can  express,  "  after  life's  fitful  fever  he 
sleeps  well " — but  alas  !  his  works  do  follow  him. 

Upon  our  return  we  followed  for  awhile  the 
road  by  which  we  came  and  then  branched  off 
into  a  purgatorial,  uninteresting  country  only  to 
emerge  upon  a  paradisaical  scene,  as  for  four  or 
five  miles  we  drove  along  a  fine,  smooth  road  cut 
out  from  the  rock-bound  coast,  bordered  and  pro- 
tected by  a  handsome  parapet  or  wall.  The  ex- 
treme beauty  of  this  portion  of  the  drive  is  beyond 
word-picturing.  It  consisted  in  the  constant 
bending  and  curving  along  a  sharp  ragged  inhos- 
pitable shore,  but  with  no  variety  of  scenery  as 
along  the  Salerno  coast.  The  views  backward 
were  superb,  for  the  mountain  ranges  were  very 
abrupt  and  irregular  and  the  great  piles  in  the 
hazy  atmosphere  were  mellow  with  amethyst 


THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  A  DEVOTEE.         233 

and  delicate  violet,  while  the  sunlight  effects 
upon  the  broad  waters  were  marvellous.  We 
were  sorry  when  there  was  no  more  road  and 
"  no  more  sea,"  and  we  again  turned  into  the 
little  village  where,  in  the  morning,  we  had  rested 
for  a  half  hour.  Then  back  by  the  same  en- 
chanted way  of  the  earlier  part  of  the  day  with 
the  quiet,  solemn  shades  of  evening  gathering 
and  thickening  with  every  mile.  It  was  nine 
o'clock  when  the  horses'  hoofs  clattered  along  the 
quiet  streets  of  San  Sebastian  and  brought  us 
again  to  our  hotel,  tired  of  course,  but  with  one 
more  delicious  memory  of  what  has  really  been 
to  us  "  sunny  Spain." 


AU  REVOIR. 

As  the  train  carried  us  away  from  jaunty  little 
San  Sebastian,  a  dreary  sense  that  vacation  was 
ended  possessed  us,  that  our  romantic,  interesting 
and  instructive  journey  was  nearing  its  close,  and 
that  already  we  had  crossed  the  country  of  the 
Little  King.  Perhaps  in  the  olden  days  when 
the  only  mode  of  conveyance  was  the  diligence, 
the  common  post-coach  of  -  the  country,  and  the 
long  desolate  stretches  were  slowly  covered,  neces- 
sitating frequent  stoppings  at  wretched  wayside 
inns  and  always  a  possibility  of  a  "  hold-up,"  all 
that  has  been  written  and  said  about  the  hard- 
ship, fatigue  and  danger  of  Spanish  travel  may 
have  been  true.  But  the  advent  of  the  railway 
has  altered  all  this,  and  one  can  see  a  good 
portion  of  the  kingdom,  in  comparative  comfort, 
although,  doubtless,  at  the  expense  of  many  a 
characteristic  feature.  Yet,  neither  in  road  equip- 
ment nor  in  accommodation  along  the  route,  will 
a  trip  as  yet  compare  in  luxury  or  comfort  with 

any  of  the  great  Continental  routes.     Some  one 
234 


AU  REVOIR.  235 

will  say  (in  fact,  we  have  been  repeatedly  asked) 
"  Does  it  pay  ?  "  To  this  we  answer,  "  It  depends 
upon  the  individual ! "  Any  one  who  cares  more 
for  what  there  is  to  be  seen  than  for  what  he 
must  eat,  or  where  he  must  lodge,  will  find  it 
yielding  a  hundredfold.  We  would  gladly  have 
repeated  the  whole  route  and  only  regretted  we 
had  not  allowed  more  time  and  visited  more  places. 
But  tastes  differ !  For  instance,  said  a  vivacious 
little  western  woman,  our  "vis-a-vis"  at  table 
d'hote  at  San  Sebastian,  at  the  completion  of  an 
extensive  tour, "  There  is  nothing  worth  seeing  in 
Spain  but  the  bull-fights,  and  they  are  horrid, 
horrid!"  Infinitesimal  questioning  revealed  the 
fact  that,  although  "  horrid,"  she  had  repeatedly 
witnessed  them  !  "  They  are  so  characteristic, 
you  know !  Just  what  one  comes  to  Spain  to  see ! " 
While  half  listening  to  the  ripple  of  light  conver- 
sation which  followed,  our  thoughts  were  busy 
with  the  pictures  memory  holds  so  dear, — of  the 
majestic  leonine  form  which  gave  us  our  first  wel- 
come, the  quaint  cork  trees  and  olive-dotted  slopes 
and  verdant  stretches  of  fair  and  winsome  Anda- 
lusia, the  flowers  which  garlanded  as  for  a  fete  our 
whole  route,  the  marvellous  canvasses  at  Seville 
and  Madrid,  the  vast  stupendous  structures  which 
in  the  Cathedrals  of  Seville,  Toledo,  Salamanca  and 


#30  A  TRIP  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

Burgos,  embody  the  worship  of  a  past  age, — the 
magnificent  tombs, — the  impress  of  Roman, 
French  and  Moor  in  the  architecture  of  the  var- 
ious cities, — grand  old  Toledo,  lifted  high  in  air, 
the  peerless  Alhambra  and  the  faultless  Geralda, 
and  the  fascinating  and  delightful  "  unlike  any- 
thing else  "  of  many  characteristics  of  the  towns, 
the  interesting  people  and  the  pretty  Basque 
country,  and  said  quietly  to  the  national  sport, 
the  bull-fight,  "  To  us,  you  are  weighed  in  the 
balance  and  found  wanting," — to  our  taste  you 
form  the  least  satisfactory  of  all  the  attractions 
and  characteristics  of  grand  old  and  half-awak- 
ened Spain  ! 


A  journey  of  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  past 
Carlist,  tower-crowned  hills  and  through  unin- 
teresting country,  brought  us  to  "  Irun,"  our  last 
Spanish  town.  Way  off  upon  the  hillside,  soli- 
tary and  alone,  was  a  huge  structure  with  a  tower, 
probably  a  monastery  :  beyond  in  a  line  of  several 
miles  great  square  towers  for  watch  and  defense, 
a  reminiscence  of  the  last  great  Carlist  war,  and 
upon  a  point  jutting  out  into  the  little  river,  the 
group  of  buildings  and  towers  comprising  the 
town. 


AU  REVOIR.  237 

A  few  moments  beyond  the  stream  we  came  to 
Hendaye, — and  were  upon  French  soil.  As  we 
slowly  bridged  the  little  river,  a  fair  young  girl 
of  the  party,  in  the  exuberance  and  joyousness 
of  youth,  tossed  lightly  into  the  shining  waters 
a  new  copper  coin — that  she,  and  let  us  hope, — all 
of  us,  might  corne  again  to  the  castles  we  have 
builded  all  our  lives  long,  in  romantic,  chivalric 
and  poetic  Spain, — the  treasured  country  of  the 
Little  King. 


THE   END. 


By  the  Same  Author. 


Gypsying  Beyond  the  Sea. 

FKOM  ENGLISH  FIELDS  TO  SALERNO'S  SHORES. 

BY 

WILLIAM    BEMENT    LENT. 

With  18  tall-page  Illustrations. 
Two  Volumes.     16mo.     Ornamental  Cloth.    A  Set,  $3.00. 


"  Two  pleasant  volumes  of  travels  under  the  alluring  title  'Gypsying 
Beyond  the  Sea.'  Mr.  Lent  made  a  leisurely  tour  of  the  British  Isles 
and  the  Continent,  and  the  notes  of  his  journeyings,  if  not  especially 
new,  are  interesting.  Finland,  however,  is  a  little  visited  corner  of 
Europe,  and  there  Mr.  Lent's  letters  treat  of  new  matter,  and  are 
instructive  as  well .  as  interesting.  The  books  are  illustrated  by 
photographs."— N.  Y.  Sun. 

"  Mr.  William  Bement  Lent,  another  American  tourist,  has  given 
us  in  two  volumes  a  light  running  account  of  his  sights  and  impres- 
sions in  England,  Wales,  Scotland,  Belgium,  Germany,  Switzerland, 
Holland,  Italy,  Russia,  Finland,  Denmark  and  Sweden.  His  graceful 
and  picturesque  style  seems  to  indicate  a  genuine  enjoyment  of  his 
travels,  with  especial  appetite  for  scenery  and  for  architectural  and 
other  historical  attractions.  There  are  a  considerable  number  of  full- 
page  illustrations."—  Review  of  Reviews. 

"If  people  will  continue  to  write  books  on  the  familiar  '  European 
round'  they  must  at  least  make  them  exceptionally  attractive  with 
print,  cover  and  illustration.  Mr.  William  Bement  Lent  has  done  this 
with  his  two  pretty,  almost  elegant,  volumes  entitled  'Gypsying  Beyond 
che  Sea  from  English  Fields  to  Salerno's  Shores.1  Mr.  Lent  has  written 
for  all  readcro  and  all  seasons,  and  takes  us  over  the  conventional 
tourist's  path  through  England,  Wales,  and  Scotland :  across  Belgium, 
which  he  calls  'the  cock  pit  of  Europe,'  into  Holland,  Germany  and 
Switzerland;  and  thence.  In  the  second  volume,  into  Russia,  Finland, 
Denmark,  Sweden,  and  Italy.  To  England,  Russia,  Switzerland,  and 
Italy  he  devotes  his  chief  attention.  The  charm  of  the  books  is  in  their 
delicate  binding  of  green  and  gold  and  in  the  exceedingly  good  process 
plates  which  accompany  the  text,  founded  on  photographs  but 
blending  the  best  effects  of  etching  and  mezzotint.  One  who  has 
not  read  much  European  travel  would  find  a  good  deal  in  Mr.  Lent's 
books  to  please."— $3.00.—  Literary  World. 


BONNELL,  SILVER  &  CO., 

Late  with  A.  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Co., 
24  West  22d  Street,  New  York. 


The  Sacrifice  of  a  Throne. 

BEING  AX  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE  OF   AMABEL'S, 
DUKE  OF  AOSTA,  SOMETIME   KING  OF  SPAIN. 


H.  REMSEN  WHITEHOUSE 


Formerly  attached  to  United  States  Legation  at  Madrid;  Late  Secretary 

of  Legation  and  Consul  General  to  Central  America;  Secretary  of 

Legation  to  Mexico;  Secretary  of  the  Pan- American  Conference 

and  recently  Secretary  of  United  States  Embassy  to  Italy. 

With  full-page  Illustrations  of  the  Royal  Family  la  PJatlaotype. 
One  Volume.    12 mo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 


"The  Sacrifice  of  a  Throne,"  is  the  title  not  inappropriately  selected 
by  Mr.  Whitehouse,  for  his  description  of  one  of  the  most  romantic  and 
curious  episodes  in  contemporaneous  history.  Step  by  step  the  reader 
accompanies  the  hero  of  this  historical  sketch,  prepared  from  materials 
not  within  the  reach  of  the  general  public;  from  the  hour  of  his  birth,  as  a 
member  of  one  of  the  most  ancient  reigning  Houses  of  Europe,  to  his 
acceptance  and  renunciation  of  one  of  the  most  glorious  Crowns  of 
Christendom.  Briefly  outlining  the  events  which  led  up  to  the  unifi- 
cation of  Italy,  the  writer  points  out  their  influence  in  the  formation  of 
the  character  of  the  Italian  Prince,  and  their  bearing  on  the  political  and 
social  trials  which  made  a  further  tenancy  of  the  Spanish  Throne 
anomalous. 

The  description  of  the  first  Cuban  rebellion;  the  attempted  emanci- 
pation of  the  slaves;  and  the  proposed  political  and  municipal  reforms, 
help  to  a  better  understanding  of  the  social  condition  of  that  unhappy 
island;  while  the  glimpse  of  the  complicated  phases  of  Spanish  parlia 
mentary  under  currents  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  assists  to  a  clearer 
appreciation  of  the  difficulties  encountered  by  the  government  of  the 
Peninsula  in  the  present  crisis -similar  in  many  respects  to  that  con- 
fronted during  the  reign  of  Amadeus. 

In  this  connection  the  publication  of  Mr.  Whitehouse's  book  is 
particularly  opportune,  occurring  as  it  does  at  a  moment  when  public 
interest  is  engrossed  by  current  events  in  the  Antilles. 

The  character  of  Amadeus  is  carefully  studied,  and  is  free  from 
undue  prejudice. 

Admiration  for  such  qualities  as  pluck  and  consistency— attributes 
which  appeal  forcibly  to  the  Anglo  Saxon  soul— is  not  stinted  and  Mr 
Whitehouse  gives  ample  demonstration  of  the  posession  of  the  moral 
and  physical  variations  of  these  virtues  by  the  young  monarch,  as 
evinced  by  his  public  and  private  acts. 

Putting  aside  the  purely  historical  element  and  diplomatic  criticism, 
sufficient  romantic  and  dramatic  episode  will  be  found  in  the  private 
life  of  the  hero  to  furnish  material  for  the  plots  of  a  score  of  popular 
novels. 

The  illustrations,  of  which  there  are  five,  are  artistically  reproduced, 
and  add  considerably  to  the  general  interest  of  the  work. 


BONNELL,  SILVER  &  CO., 

Lite  with  A.  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Co., 
24  West  22d  Street,  New  York. 


,..U.CSOUTHI 


A     000  046  222 


